Continued Survival
by TeeDee
Summary: [Slash]As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... Harry Potter and YGO, what else!
1. A New Hand is Dealt

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Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

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Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

This has quite a bit of work to be done. I'll clean these earlier chapters up before adding more. These changes don't effect the story. I'm just adding in the missing words, and fixing my italics.

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Chapter 1 A New Hand is Dealt

Fascinating, really, how the second hand on most clocks seem to shudder and fall backwards with every click, instead of forwards. Oh, the hand did make good time around each lap, but still. If a second wasn't a second, he was sure it would look like it was stuck.

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LAST CALL FOR THE 5:40 FLIGHT, RUNWAY…

Ryou pulled his lighter suitcase closer as he forced his gaze away from the clock, giving himself a moment to reorient his vision before making sure that nothing had changed within the last 3 minutes. It hadn't. Unaffected by the steady stream of people outside the glass wall separating them from the waiting room, the scant few who shared it with him remained in their own worlds. Some chattered amongst themselves, while another was reading as his companion-wife?-fretted over whether or not her daughter had forgotten them.

And he, one of two solitary travellers still there, waited for a drive he secretly doubted would come. After all, who was this Mr. Snape that his father didn't seem to know? 'A friend of a friend' had been his father's dubious answer, and, thoroughly alarmed, he'd decided against asking anything more. Better not to know.

Besides, his father, the same father who was supposed to be gone until mid-august, had gotten him out of the house and onto the plane, baggage and all, so fast that he still could hardly believe that he was in London, not Japan. Ryou hoped that Yugi and his friends didn't worry when they finally noticed his absence.

He'd tried to call Yugi and tell him that he'd be gone for a while, but his father had seized the phone and shepherded him upstairs to pack some of his non-electronic goods, assuring again and again that his clock and walkman wouldn't be needed (though his walkman, at least, had finally made it into the bottom of his unpacked bag… Sadly, his father had taken the liberty of packing clothing for him, and had not been generous in the doing of it). Far more gifted in overcoming shock, Bakura had merely been an amused presence in the back of Ryou's being as the older mortal dished out order after order for the light.

Add on the silence of the plane trip and you have his current position-slouched down in a chair along the back wall, suitcases at lap and feet, as he waited for someone to come, and…

Ryou guessed that he would be fine with just about whatever they did with him at this point, so long as his two-hour-late transportation found its way to him.

At least he wouldn't really be alone if he was, in fact, stranded there, though what a good five-millennia-old tomb raider with a sadistic sense of humour and an ego to rival his years would be, he wasn't quite sure. However, Yami no Bakura was able to look out for himself, and, really, any harm to Ryou's body _was_ harm to the spirit…

Searing pain flashed through Ryou's mind. A small whimper escaping his lips, he clutched his arms close. 'Gomen-nasai, Yami-sama,' he cried in the equivalent of a mental whimper. No response came, but that was more relief than anything else. The sudden change in pace, along with the constant worrying his light produced, were also a strain on the spirit, and, really, it was amazing that no harm had been done to any strangers by the temperamental spirit possessing the millennium ring.

With another yawn, Ryou settled for another round of clock-watching. He was starting to get hungry, but with Yami no Bakura in charge of his life, he had developed quite a tolerance for such discomfort. After all, what is hunger to one intent on… ruling the world, isn't it?

What would possess his father to leave a dig and return home without warning, just to rush him off to London, a place where they hadn't even lived when they _had_ been in England, he didn't know. A twinge of annoyance crossed him and he frowned, wishing he were back in Domino, the only place he would ever be accepted.

It was easy enough for his father to pack up and move on a whim, _he_ didn't remain at home for more than a week or two at a time. Ryou, he had to switch schools, leave friends… the first friends that he had ever had since…

Sure, a lot of the time he wasn't allowed to talk to them anyway, but they had understood that, and none of them had ever condemned him for it.

You know, going back to the fact that Yami no Bakura hadn't bothered any other travellers, Ryou bet that it was because he was, no matter how stressed, cheered that Ryou would be cut off from their influence for however long this excursion lasted. As much as his light liked them, he detested them.

If no one came by midnight, Ryou decided wearily, he'd give up hope completely and have to find an officer for help. He couldn't just walk off into London with nowhere to go.

Derision filtered through the link and coated his thoughts with annoyance. Guess that wasn't an option…

Even if his dark wasn't separated from him, Ryou felt it best to play safe and ducked his head submissively, eyes shutting as he awaited whatever else might come. Nothing did, so he just stayed quiet, both inwardly and outwardly. Best not to tempt those in control, he had learned long ago, especially the spirit of the ring.

Then a bell jingled, singing the opening of the door. Glancing up, Ryou found a sallow-skinned man standing in the doorway with a scowl on his lips, dark gaze roving the room before falling to rest upon a teen not too far from the entrance. The cold eyes seemed to assess the youth, then his baggage, before addressing him in crisp words that gave Ryou a queasy stomach. "Mr. Bakura?"

So this was his drive.

Quietly putting down the bag on his lap and standing, Ryou saw the brown-haired teen give the man a cold glance over his binder. "No."

Swallowing his nerves, Ryou stepped forward and bowed, saying softly, and with a hint of question, "Snape-san?"

Those coal eyes snapped onto him and Ryou gave an involuntary cringe, gathering his long coat closer.

"_Snape_," the man corrected him crisply. "_Professor Severus Snape_."

"Yes, Snape-se-Professor Snape," Ryou hurriedly corrected himself, cringing again at his slip. English, he reminded himself firmly. "Go-Sorry." He ended up flushing. For his native tongue, he was certainly finding it difficult to switch back to.

"Well, Mr. Bakura?" The professor prompted after a moment, one eyebrow cocked. Ryou looked back blankly. The tall man snorted. "You may have need of those suitcases." A deeper scowl set over his features as he added, "And a hairbrush."

So saying, and with a derisive glance at him from head to foot, the professor spun on his heel and headed off.

"Hai," Ryou murmured, wishing the heat would leave his face. _Guess it's time to go…_

He followed the Professor from the airport to the parking lot, placing both of his bags into the backseat of an old, tan car, taking the front passenger side for himself. It was a relief to find that the brisk, cold man was a good driver. Half-wishing that he had brought something to eat, Ryou watched the scenery passing by through the smudged window.

"You speak English fluently, I trust?" Mr. Snape broke the new silence.

Flushing anew, Ryou reached up to run his fingers through his hair nervously, found that he couldn't for heavy knots. "Yes." He responded self-consciously. "It's just a bit awkward. I haven't had to talk to anyone besides Father in English for a long time."

"Good."

That said, the rest of the trip passed in a silence broken only by the soft shuffling of Ryou's deck, until it, too, ceased, its owner drifting asleep.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape, potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was pissed. Coming from a long line of purebloods to rival the Malfoys in all but wealth, he had never had to have any dealings with muggles. True, his house had had its share of muggle-born, or, in the least, the muggle-raised, but he let his students take care of them, keeping himself available if needed, but busy enough that few would actually bug him. Besides, what true Slytherin wasn't able to adjust to changes?

And, now, with no prior experience of such creatures, he was driving with a decidedly muggle teen asleep in the front seat of the car Albus had supplied him with. And, to make matters worse, the child had in his lap what looked alarmingly like a deck of Sybil's cards.

And what, Severus wondered, was he supposed to do with the boy whenever the Dark Lord summoned him?

Parking outside an old apartment complex and unbuckling his seatbelt, Severus cast a scowl towards the slumbering teen in the seat next to him. Who knew how long Albus would stick him with the brat. 'I'm not sure, Severus. Just keep him safe, I know you will.' Just like Albus, there was nothing more said than that, as soon as was safely possible, he would relieve Snape of the teen so that the younger man could return to brewing potions in peace.

What he made of the teen himself wasn't much. Scrawny, doe-eyed and rat nest infested hair aside, the boy spoke too softly to be easily heard, and could hardly do _that_ without slipping up here in there. Clearly timid. What was he, a man first years cowered in fear from, supposed to do with him!

"Wake up," he snapped. The lad roused himself, turning startlingly clear, amber eyes to meet Snape's, lips twitched into a half-smirk. His own eyes narrowing, Severus turned and got out of the car. "Get your bags and follow me." He commanded, not bothering to make sure that the boy followed him as he stalked off into the building.

Perhaps this youth wasn't such a timid creature. Something about that smirk bothered him, and hadn't the brat's eyes been brown?

* * *

Mm. Ryou snuggled deeper into his blankets, basking in the comfort they gave him. Turning onto his other side, he threw out an arm to pull his extra blanket over him. And found none. Frowning a line onto his brow, Ryou shifted and tried again. Still none, and the bed didn't feel familiar… his mattress was just starting to be beaten in, this one felt long-used, his body sinking into it.

If he wasn't home, where was he?

Worry brought him awake as he remembered Professor Snape and leaving Domino. Ha had been shuffling his deck, hadn't he? In the car? How did he get to bed-and only in his boxers! Only… the professor…

'_I_ brought the body in, idiot.'

Relief washed over him and he pushed himself into a sitting position, blankets tumbling down. The room was very small, with yellow-brown walls and only a chair and the bed for furnishings. It wasn't really welcoming, but it was fine. Where was he? Was he with his father's friend now? Deciding to find out, Ryou threw on some clothing before grabbing a brush and leaving the room.

Judging from his surroundings, Ryou decided that they were either in an apartment or a very small house. In the hall were three doors to chose from, the one leading to his own room, a door for what he guessed to be a different bedroom, and what must be the bathroom. Clutching his brush to his chest, he walked down the thickly carpeted hallway, pausing where it opened to the living room/kitchen. There he found the professor sitting on the couch with a stack of strange looking papers.

"The dead awakens." The man quipped without looking up. Holding back a sigh, Ryou climbed onto a fluffy chair and began to comb his waist-length hair, grimacing over the amount of fist-sized tangles her was finding.

"Sir, when am I going to meet my father's friend?" He asked eventually, when it became clear that the man wouldn't speak without prompting.

Snape grunted, going to the next sheet. "I don't know."

He didn't know… Setting down his brush, Ryou frowned, asking quietly, "Does he know that I'm here?"

"Of course he does." Professor Snape snapped. "However, you will be staying with me until he clears some of his personal up enough that he can manage looking after a teenager."

Ouch. For the first time this was all starting to make sense to him. So, he was being sent away to a babysitter. But why?

"Do you know why Father has sent me away _now_, after leaving me on my own for all of these years?" He dared to ask. There were too many explanations he could come up with for himself, none of which he wanted to consider.

After a short silence, Professor Snape told him in a much kinder tone, "That is none of my business, Mr. Bakura. You will have to ask your father."

"Do you know when he'll be arriving?" Ryou asked with little hope.

Snape read for a bit longer, before saying, "I do not believe he has any plans of arriving. At least not until term is well under way. Now, let me read, boy. Albus can answer these questions of yours."

So, with nothing else to do, he settled for combing his hair and watching the drizzle outside the foggy window.

_-End Ch.1-_

(Here we are, one of the first 2 chapters done! Now watch me find _more_ annoying mistakes. I should probably keep printing my chapters off when I finish, since I seem to find more mistakes when it's on paper than I do when it's on the screen.))

-Grins- Now, I just want to know this:

Am I going forward with this story, or should I quit and give it up? I've never written for the enjoyment of anyone besides myself before, so this is a new experience.

I hope that you will all want me to go on. I started it months ago, and have quite a bit more, but decided against posting it because there were already tons of HPYGO stories available at the time. And there are even more now! Laughs

So, I figure that I may as well stick this much of the story out there and check out your response to it.

Please let me know Þ


	2. The Game Begins

**Continued Survival**

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

Thanks for reviewing! I'm really sorry if anyone gets an alert on this story, I'm just going through today to do up some of my horrid mistakes. One of these days I really should get a beta … … )

**Chapter 2 The Game Begins**

If he died of boredom, would the professor let his father know in time for the funeral? Would his father bother to come?

Ryou shifted again and dropped his book onto the carpet, eliciting an annoyed grunt from the professor.

"Can't you be still for even a minute?" The man grumbled.

"Sorry," Ryou mumbled. How was he supposed to explain that the ancient spirit possessing both his ring and mind kept complaining and sending restlessness through to him?

He voiced when the silence and stillness became unbearable, "Sir?"

"What _now_?"

"May I go for a walk?"

"No," Professor Snape snapped, and shot him a dark glare over top of the new pile of papers he had come up with. Ryou was starting to think that the man had a stash of the things in his room somewhere. He didn't know _where_, as he'd never been in there, but there was nowhere else for the man to keep them.

Wait. No? To a _walk_? But _why_? Again Ryou began to wonder what his father might have told them. Could the sudden send off have had more to do with he himself than he had considered?

Running through his memories of the night before last, Ryou began trying to remember if his father's gaze had drifted to his arm at any point, and wondered if the man might have heard of his brief stay in the hospital, or the rough treatment he had given many a stranger… The latter was impossible, though, wasn't it?

But it was already apparent that he had been sent off somewhere where he could have supervision. There _had _to be a reason for that, and any one of the things happening over the last year, coupled with the not-so-distant past of his, were reason enough to cause a father worry. Even a distant father such as his.

And, judging from what the professor had said earlier that day, he would be attending school in England instead of returning to Domino sometime before fall. The unfairness of it all made him want to claw the arms off of his already cigarette-burn pocked chair. Didn't he have any _say_ in his own life?

But, oh, of course not! His other half had say, his father, whom he hadn't even seen since sometime before Christmas (not counting the man's brief spurt of insanity), had say, but not _Ryou_. All _Ryou_ got to do was smile and follow orders. If he asked questions, he got ignored, or glared at, or given some empty little response that made him even more lost.

And now, here he was under full supervision. It was the end of his hope for being taken for normal. Domino was a long ways away, and with it, the few who understood.

Digging his deck out of his pocket, Ryou set to shuffling it. A nervous habit he scarcely noticed anymore.

No one else would be able to understand, or want to befriend him. His spirit would see to that.

"I have business today in London, so you can clean up and accompany me," the professor surprised him by saying. "An associate of mine will meet us and stay with you."

Ryou perked up, letting his deck fall onto his lap. Finally! He had been in London for nearly three days now, and had yet to see the sky without the filmy glass obstructing his view. There wasn't much to see out there, since the dreary clouds had finally given in and burst with heavy rain, but outdoors was outdoors.

"When will we leave?" Ryou inquired politely, and received a snappish 'Whenever you're ready for an answer.

Already dressed and cleaned up, all he had to do was pocket his deck and he could leave anytime. Of course, it wouldn't hurt for him to brush his hair out again.

Oh, so he was vain over his hair! Yami no Bakura had an ego to rival those pyramids of his in size. What with having to suffer through that, Ryou felt that he had earned his little quirks.

Finishing the combing and tucking his deck away in its usual pocket, Ryou shouldered his long coat and waited for the professor. He'd ended up in a white, long-sleeved shirt that fell over the top of his jeans, with the ring safely tucked beneath it warm against his chest. There was no sense in flashing about large, ancient artefacts of pure gold. Doing things like that tended to get pour souls locked away in the shadow realm.

And his collection of dolls was large enough, thank you.

"Ready, then?" The professor demanded, raising his long form from the couch like an unfurling snake. "Come along."

He knew that they were up high from looking out of the windows, but it really didn't seem that high after taking only three flights of stairs to the ground floor. The spirit stayed quiet as they stepped out into the heavy rain. Ryou knew that he was keeping careful watch over what was going on, waiting for the most opportune time to gain control.

After the long, silent drive, the professor locked the doors to his car and stalked off into a sea of dark bodies and open umbrellas. Looking after him for a blank moment before following as best he could, Ryou found himself unable to navigate well through the busy streets.

"You will behave yourself while in Minerva's care, or I'll be having more than words for you when we get back," the middle-aged man was telling him as he hastened to keep pace. "She'll be your deputy headmistress this fall, and I expect you to treat her accordingly. No straying, no arguing, no foolishness. We do _not_ give up our free time just to look after wayward children."

Wincing at the sharp words, Ryou hoped that he would be able to do as the man ordered.

The woman he was to be left with was a Mrs. Minerva McGonagall, also to be called Professor. With her greying hair trapped in a neat bun, and a straight-to-your-guts way of speech, Ryou couldn't help wondering if she was the science teacher's mother. Those thoughts swiftly shattered when Professor Snape grudgingly gave way to her, and her hard eyes momentarily softened as she looked at him.

"Ryou Bakura," she said quietly, then, in what must have been her actual greeting, "Hello Mr. Bakura. I haven't seen you for quite some time."

Well. This was unexpected.

"Uhn," he garbled unintelligently. The stab of scorn from the spirit shook him free enough to catch the tug at her lips.

"Yes. Your mother was visiting with her uncle and brought you and your sister with her." Here an eyebrow rose. "I do hope that you aren't as busy as you were then. Your sister was bad enough for a baby, without an older brother terrorizing us all."

Amazement that she had known his mother and sister sent a warm glow through Ryou.

"You knew them!" He gasped aloud as he spoke, not thinking to hide his excitement. Professor McGonagall's eyes softened again.

"Yes," she told him gently. "A darling child, and a brave woman."

Ryou noticed then that Professor Snape was gone.

* * *

Control had been returned to him over an hour ago, and Ryou was just as lost as he had been the moment he regained it. His spirit, ever the great help, was now a vague, contented presence just out of contact. Ryou was being careful not to consider the things that could lead up to the ancient one's contentment. There was weight in many pockets of his coat which were formerly empty, so he let himself think about that, not the few droplets of darkening red upon a sleeve of his coat, or the knowledge that it took more than a few petty thefts to appease the spirit's own inner demons' thirst. 

And, like a knife through numbed flesh, he recalled the Professor's words. Well. A satisfied spirit, a furious guardian. The lesser of two dangers, really. While his spirit never left him, everyone else, even his father, only made short appearances in this life of his.

Exhausted and dripping wet, Ryou spotted a very stormy-faced Professor Snape storming his way. Called by his thoughts, no doubt, he mused humourlessly.

"Sensei?" He called softly, moving forward swiftly. As he passed by an alley, a hand snagged his hair roughly, dragging him off course and into a strong form.

The hand wrapped itself tightly amidst the silver-white locks as a voice Ryou recognized all-too-well crooned, "Is Bakura's little kitten lost? Pretty little kitten is _terribly _far from home."

Marik? _Here?_

Footsteps pounded their way, water splishing from disturbed puddles. "I suggest that you release the boy," the professor's cold voice snipped in English as the man came within range. Oh no, no, no, no… You don't challenge psychopaths, especially not ones with mind-control powers! Clenching his eyes shut so tightly that his nose wrinkled, Ryou pleaded with fate not to kill the man. Maybe, just maybe, the Egyptian spirit didn't know English?

"Bakura would let Marik pet kitten." So much for Marik not knowing English. But why was he here? And he most certainly was _not_ allowed to pet him! "Who are you to challenge me?"

With those words, Marik's fist clenched, eliciting a hiss of pain from Ryou. Hold very still, he ordered himself. This will be over sometime. Warn the professor?

Ryou cracked one eye open to find a mystified science teacher.

"That boy is my charge, and if you don't release him _immediately_-"

"Snape-sensei, no, please! You'll only make him-" A tightening of the fingers made Ryou gasp and he cut off, a quiver of fear racing through his body. "Onnegai, Father sent me here, please don't kill him., he whimpered only. The hand gave a predictable tug to silence him again. Having at least tried, Ryou gave in and stood silently, mind alternating between fear for the teacher and worry over why Marik was present there in London.

No, he didn't think that it boded well for the city. Or the rest of the country.

The hand in his hair relaxed as a slightly smoother voice than previously issued from Marik said, "You are a devourer of dead, are you not?"

Malik now. In response to that change, Ryou, too, relaxed. Though both were quite insane, Malik was by far the soundest of the two, if a creation of one's anger and hatred could be considered a separate entity.

And he didn't consider Ryou to be a kitten. Perk.

"Who are you?" The professor demanded, startling Ryou with the suspicion in his words. Had he missed something?

"I am the one in charge at the moment. Now, little devourer of dead, you will bring me to your master."

Okay, Ryou, just keep breathing and stay still, he told himself. Turn and open your eyes to see Malik? No, no, he doesn't want you to move. Watch the professor instead. He looks…pensive. Hm. Since when did Malik and Marik pay so much attention to an insignificant puppet?

"What master?" Snape half-growled. Ryou lowered his gaze from the professor's eyes, finding the dangerous glint in the obsidian orbs too chilling. The knowledge that soon those eyes would more than likely be dull with stolen wits didn't help.

"The same one you're seeing in your mind even now," Malik purred. "Your expressions are schooled, your emotions impressive, but your mind doesn't lie." His other hand must be on the rod… but who could the science teacher know that Malik and Marik would care to meet?

And now the teacher looked very unsettled. Of course, a teen didn't ordinarily walk up to you and tell you what they see in your mind.

"You really should listen to him." Ryou dared to prompt the man kindly.

"Do you expect me to believe that you can read minds?" The professor had caught on well. He was now ignoring him, too.

"And control them if I so wish," Malik countered. "Stop avoiding the topic. I want to be brought to this serpentine master of yours."

Those dark eyes of the professor flickered to Ryou before settling their gaze on what mush be Malik's face over Ryou's head. "None of this has anything to do with the boy. Let go of him and I'll discuss this with you."

There was a jingling of bracelets striking together and Ryou gave a cry as Malik yanked down on his hair, forcing his neck to arch. He couldn't see the professor anymore, as his eyes were shut, but he heard the man growl.

"He comes with us," Malik stated, brooking no arguement.

So he wasn't bait… This in no way comforted Ryou. Malik and Marik wouldn't want him, they'd be wanting his spirit, which hinted at naught but a mess of trouble. Trouble in which they seemed determined to include his present guardian. If his father had been concerned before, he would be absolutely livid now. Bakura and the Egyptians equalled lots of death, pain, and chaos for all involved, and this time Ryou would be friendless in the eye of it all.

But then, had he ever had friends? Not before Yugi, and probably never again. Malik and he could get along, but the larger teen was too wrapped up in vengeance and chaos to really care about anyone, excluding his brother. And, sometimes, his sister. Malik was the perfect host for Marik, as Ryou's own darkness made clear. Yugi to 'the Pharaoh', Malik to Marik, why couldn't _he_ be as suited to his other half as they were to theirs? Even little Yugi was more outgoing than he, and both Yugi and Malik were brave. _He_ was a coward and a weakling.

"I would need good reason to take you anywhere, boy," Professor Snape snapped. "Release Mr. Bakura at once!"

"But kitten and I are friends, little puppet." Marik again. Oh God, Ra, anyone who would listen… "Aren't we, kitten? Ah, ah, leave your stick where it is, and I'll leave mine."

Marik would be meaning the rod, but what kind of stick would the teacher have? A gun?

"You're no muggle." Uh? "You're a foolish little child trying to bully and trick your way into what you think is power. Don't try to manipulate fire, boy, lest you be a lot worse than burned."

Ryou could feel what little colour he had left draining from his face. Little child… He called Marik a little child, and a fool! Oh…

An anguished groan escaped him even as harsh laughter rushed from his captor. "_I _am the fire, puppet, and no one insults me. You have another chance to bring me to your master of your own will, then I take matters into my own hands. Will you?"

Dizzying blackness was dancing before Ryou's eyes, but he couldn't drop. Otherwise his neck would snap, bent as it was. Please, Professor, he begged silently, listen to him. Don't fight, don't argue. It would be hard to explain how he knew the Egyptian as things were. Add in mind-control and he would be locked up with 24/7 watch for life. Or, if those listening were _really_ thick, locked up for life with padded walls, jacket, and all… Would they take his ring? It _was _sharp in several places.

Would they blame him for the murdered orderlies afterwards? Or missing people? The Pharaoh's mind-crush was so much easier to explain away than his spirit's send-them-to-the-shadow-realm or doll-per-person strategy.

"I grow impatient," Marik snapped when all that his words met was silence. "Take me to this lord of serpents, or you will never make another choice again."

Ryou's legs were starting to feel disjointed.

"What will happen to the boy if I don't?" Professor Snape demanded.

"You never see him again."

* * *

Snape scowled at the slim youth before him, donning overly revealing clothes and wearing more gold than Snape bet that Divination fraud even owned. The very decorated brat had Ryou Bakura in what had to be a painful hold. The soft whimpering from moments before seconded his opinion.

"Fine," he snarled in the end. The blonde's answer was a smirk that would match Lucius', which only shifted into a cruel chuckle when the young man between them chose that moment to collapse. Still chuckling, the Egyptian unwound his hand from the pearly strands slowly enough that the smaller boy didn't strike his head too hard against the ground.

"Too much for the kitten's weak little heart. Carry him."

Biting back a retort for fear that he wouldn't be able to carry the child, Snape stalked forward and knelt long enough to gather the limp form into his arms. Standing and looking down at him, Snape's frown deepened at the near translucence of the face framed with silken hair. Where could this timid little creature have ever gotten to know the arrogant one that he was now left with? It was quite obvious that Ryou Bakura was terrified of the Egyptian, and that was no help.

Also, if this boy was cut off from the Wizarding World, how could he have gotten to know an obviously wizard-born child, one who even knew what the Dark Lord looked like!

"It's your show now, puppet. Where shall we go?" The youth inquired silkily.

"I am _not a _puppet, you arrogant little brat," Severus snapped.

"You _are _a puppet, I just don't feel a need to take up your strings."

Something about that boy unsettled Snape, and had even before he had called him a Death Eater. Knowing that the boy didn't go to Hogwarts, Snape bet that he went somewhere else, for the brat was undoubtedly a wizard. Who else but a wizard could know of wands, Death Eaters, and Voldemort?

And, again, what did this have to do with the 'kitten' Ryou Bakura? Just who was this child Albus wanted him to protect? Minerva knew. Maybe he would swallow his pride and ask her later, providing that the Dark Lord didn't kill the three of them for his bringing strange children in.

Albus owed him **big**.

End Ch.2

Thanks for reading, and please review!

_Responses To Reviewers: _

Seto/ryou4ever: Thank you SO much for reviewing! You were my first ever reviewer! G When I read yours and Antago's, since I got them at the same time, I was pretty much bouncing in my chair! Thank you SO much!

Antago: I can't believe that you came back the next day to review my story! THANK YOU! I'm sorry that my update didn't come too soon, but I got it up as soon as I got back today. Whew. The whole thing's on paper, so it took me a while. I'm soooooo tired of typing XD

Marg: Thanks! Snape's going to be an important part of this story, although I haven't gotten it all worked out yet.

Kamianya: Woo-hoo! Grins I hope that you liked this part, too! Thanks

The Inspector: G Your review made me laugh! Don't worry, please, Snape and Ryou will _not_ be made into an item. That's just… wrong! If I do add any romance, it'll be Ryou and Bakura, of course, but I'm not really seeing any in the near future.

And I'm really grateful that you want me to continue! I hope that you still find my story interesting after this part. Thanks!

Maruken: I won't! Promise! I started it, got a good response from all of you, so I'll finish it. Here's the next part, and thank you!

Well, I'm now off! Sorry to end it there, but the next part needs to be fixed up, and the papers need to be gotten into order. I hope that you guys are all still going to read! And . . . .

**Please Review Þ**


	3. When You Choose Your Cards

**Continued Survival**

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

Here is the updated version as of 01/29/07

**Chapter 3 When You Choose Your Cards**

Severus led them through the shadowed corridors of the mansion, pointedly ignoring the robed figures skulking about them. Violet eyes bore into his back. Concentrating on the limp body lying in his arms, he swallowed a growl. Severus despised it when people walked behind him, watching his every movement from where he couldn't see them.

This was no palace that they entered. Paint on the walls was cracked and pealing, like dried flesh crawling from the dead's bones. This could have been a morgue through which he brought them, so silent and dark was it, desolation and pain hanging heavy upon the air. The jingle of loose jewellery being worn behind him was greatly out of place.

Stopping at a narrow doorway, with soft light pooling out from the crack beneath the door, Severus rapped on it needlessly. The Dark Lord would already know that he was there, and would likely have already decided on his death. At least, courtesy of his skills in Occlumency, his death may not be as painful as it would have been, had Voldemort had time to discover his servant's misplaced loyalty.

Creaking free of its doorframe, as slow as if heavy hands laboured in its parting from its wooden cradle, the door opened to them, sending a spider scrambling away from the dim light washing over its web.

Severus knew this to be a bid to enter, and did, pride keeping him from glancing back at the teen on his heels. It would have been refreshing for him to see the superior expression of the youth washed off by anxiety.

It would not have set well on his mind, had he looked behind him and seen the satisfied expression the other wore.

In this study's plush chair, taking full advantage of the heat its placement before the roaring fireplace offered, was the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini. It raised its head from the armrest and blinked at them benignly, reminding Snape of an elongated dog.

Voldemort himself stood by the only other source of light the room offered, a candle placed near the edge of an old desk. Severus could imagine that, once upon a time, the elder Thomas Riddle had used it to peruse his letters of business, or arrange personal documents. Now, it was little more than a decoration, for Lucius took care of any important business that may need to be written out, and Voldemort did not care to keep personal documents lying about his study.

The self-proclaimed Lord's crimson eyes were locked onto Severus, not even gracing the frail figure in his arms, or the one trailing behind the Potions Master, with a glance.

This was remedied when the teen moved past him, drawing away the Dark Lord's eyes. In the flashings of the fire, he glittered like a living flame, prowling closer to the serpentine lord with feline grace.

"Call off your pet bat, for I'm going to talk to you alone," the youth slickly ordered. "Ryou can be left on the rug." This was at the chair's foot, between snake and fire.

Severus watched in disbelief. Who did this boy think he was! Voldemort, also watching, was pensive. Would he kill the outspoken boy, Snape wondered, or be impressed by him?

"Who are you to give orders in my presence?" Voldemort demanded, seeming more curious than angry. "Severus, leave that boy by Nagini. Avery has the last needed ingredient for the potion we spoke of earlier."

It took more strength than Severus knew that he possessed to obey and lay his charge's body on the rug before that giant snake. Dumbledore had entrusted him with the child's care, but, were he to protest this, Dumbledore would lose both this boy _and_ his spy. Severus was not fool enough to miss the way the Dark Lord continuously watched him, assessing how much control he still held over the strong-willed Potions Master.

This was a price that the Headmaster could ill afford, especially with the current pressure of the Wizarding World's hope wearing him down.

Keeping his expression indifferent, and his walls strong, Severus bowed to the Dark Lord and exited. He had Avery to find and a potion to brew. Then, only after his duties were preformed, could he find Albus.

* * *

The musty scent of carpet itching his nose, and warmth seeping into him, were the first things that Ryou's groggy mind registered as he awoke. Words were being spoken nearby, the exchange smooth. Confusion stirred in his mind, then gave way to an exhaustion owing nothing to his earlier near-suffocation. 

His spirit was not in the ring.

"It was an impressive display that you made," an oily voice's words drifted over to him, "but children's tricks, no matter how impressive, mean little to me. Tell me what you will, and I shall decide whether or not I am going to kill you."

Ryou didn't know that voice, but his memory suggested that this was the acquaintance of the professor's.

"_Try,_" Ryou heard his spirit snarl, and a sniff come from what was probably Malik.

"Don't mind him," Malik - for that's who it was - interjected smoothly. "Bakura, you'll ruin everything if you don't shut up." Another snarl, this time without words, answered, and the holder of the Millennium Rod continued. "Like I've said, we're here to make a deal with you. We'll help you, if, later, you help us."

If he could have escaped this by going back to sleep, Ryou would have. His nose was itching, his stomach was wound so tightly into itself with nerves that he was nauseous, and his darkness was apparently joining forces with Malik for another run at gaining power. That had worked _so well _before, at Kaiba's tournament, so why shouldn't it work _now?_

Ryou wanted to let the heat wash him back into sleep, but his curiosity wouldn't allow him to relinquish consciousness. Against his better judgement, and the weary voice in his head insisting that it would be better for him to just lie there and let the spirit and Egyptian do their piece without him watching, he blinked his eyes open and shifted, wiping away the grit clinging to his lashes.

As his vision strengthened, Ryou found himself to be in a dark study, lit only by the roaring fire and a single candle. Following the voices, he easily found his darkness, standing strong and formidable alongside the smirking Egyptian. In the poor lighting, the darkness of his spirit's scowl, and the three lines of his scar, made him look like a jackal assessing its prey.

It had been after his spirit's second return that his ability to take on his own form had been discovered. The trick was ridiculous in its simplicity, and its discovery had left the tomb robber sour for a long time afterwards.,The ring held the power to bring monsters from the shadow realm. That had been what the spirit had always used that power for, bringing their ba-wasn't that what he called it?-out of the shadow realm, and letting the rest of the ring's power create a body for them to use while on this plain of existence. Freeing himself from the ring, and not into an incorporeal form in which the only one he could touch was his host, was much more simplistic than that. All that he needed to do was use the ring's magic to draw _himself_ from the ring, and, like with the duel monsters, it gave him a body for his use.

But the body it would give him wasn't a reflection of his host's. It gave him the form that he thought of as his own, shifting the reflection it used and bending it into something closer to what he must have once been, ages ago. Without the shifting of plains, or having to cement their 'ba' in the separate realm, it took very little effort for the spirit, and the length of time spent outside of the ring did little, or nothing, to the spirit's power.

Once made, the body was made, and, if it was destroyed, the only drawback for the darkness was that he had to return to the ring and remain there until his depleted energy built back up. Ryou knew that the spirit didn't understand why only his body's destruction effected his powers, and that this confusion angered his other, but Ryou knew little about magic, or shadow powers, and could only let the spirit vent his frustrations out on what was around him.

Now, gazing at the third of the group in disbelief, Ryou's sleep-muddled mind grasped onto the serpentine form of the man and immediately took things for the worst. His spirit and Malik-no, _Marik_, Malik must have given way to his other personality-had somehow managed to find Apep, and were plotting to overthrow Ra…

'Idiot_.'_ His dark hissed at him, sending those foolish thoughts scattering back into the recesses of his mind. Ryou felt himself flush, realizing how stupid those thoughts must have seemed.

Still, the fact remained that a snake-man was standing in this study. An incredibly terrifying snake-man with ruby eyes.

Ryou watched the cool, appraising look change to annoyance, and then blinked at the strange hissing the man issued as he turned towards him, gaze fixed just above where Ryou rested his head on his arm. Blinking quickly shifted to a startled cry as Ryou saw a huge snake lift its head from the chair he laid beside. Jerking upright, he didn't have time to move before the snake lunged, wrapping its coils around him tightly enough to cut off most of his breath. Ryou felt a burst of anger from his darkness, but his fear of the snake kept his wide, chocolaty eyes locked onto the glittering ones centimetres from his own.

"Why would I need your help?" The snake-man hissed, his words piercing through Ryou's pounding heart. "You're a waste of my time."

A musical chuckle overlapped the darkness' continued growl. "Because," slowly, the snake's glittering eyes glazing over, it unwound itself from the trembling light's body, "I think that we could find each other useful."

* * *

It had been hours before Severus Snape finished the assigned potion. Now, thoroughly exhausted, and at last able to drop the cement walls he had placed over his own thoughts, the Potions Master's anger at himself and the situation he had been forced to leave boiled in his mind. He'd lingered at the Riddle Mansion for as long as he dared, trying to glean as much knowledge of the new situation as he could from those coming and going around him. Not knowing what made the boy important, or what the violet-eyed brat thought he could use to court the Dark Lord's favour, made the task of leaving even harder. 

Not much information had been available, but he'd managed to find out a little from Lucius Malfoy, who had come to be as Voldemort's shadow in the weeks since he was freed. Therefore, even when he hadn't spent much time with the Dark Lord and this new company, he managed to know more than Severus did. Severus guessed that this must be a perk of having the Lord's trust.

Throwing the password at the stone gargoyle barring him from the Headmaster's office, Severus swept up the stairs as it sprang out of his way. At the top, he shoved the door open.

"Albus!" Snape snapped at the elderly, long-bearded qizard bent wearily over a scroll on his desk. "I want some explanations, and _now_. Who is that boy, and _why_ was he just kidnapped by an Egyptian wizard-born who obviously _knows_ him? Where, do you think, did he have him taken, but to the Dark Lord!"

Severus spoke with bitter sarcasm, directed as much towards himself and his failure as the situation with its unexpected outcome. However, the old man went paler than Hogwarts' many ghosts,. Feeling all of his pent-up anger and annoyance vanish, Snape looked to his mentor, the only man he ever truly trusted, in concern.

"Albus?" He pressed, his previously cynical voice now uncertain.

"So Tom took him?" Dumbledore queried distantly.

"Yes."

"Little Ryou…" The headmaster swallowed hard, and Severus could see tears forming in his blue eyes. "Everything we did, but he's still gone…"

"He's quite alive," Severus cut in, desperate to dispel the man's sorrow. It scared him, as very few things could, when the elder wizard was upset. " Lucius said enough to me to hint that the Dark Lord is quite taken with he and his _friend_, whom he seemed terrified of! There…may be mind-control involved. I'm not sure how. "

Much to the babbling Snape's relief, a spark returned to the Headmaster's eyes.

"Then there's hope, so long as he is alive!" The man declared. "Tom will find that he has bitten off too much this time. Cedric, Sirius, so many others, no more!" Standing, he snapped turbulent eyes onto Snape's. "Learn as much as you can on Ryou Bakura's situation, and keep your eyes on him, Severus. Minerva will get in touch with his father. I want them both safe as soon as possible."

There was such fire in those uncannily blue eyes that Snape found himself uneasy, but he had to ask his next question. "Who is the boy?"

The lines on the headmaster's face deepened. "The last of my nephews," Albus answered honestly. "He's all that I have left of my elder brother's descendants. My other brother fathered no children, nor did I."

"What of his father? A squib?" Severus managed to get out over his shock. The Dumbledore line was known to be pure, and surely…

"His father is a muggle," Albus told him gently, looking away to give Severus a moment to get over his shock. "For their safety, she took them out of our world and delved into the muggle one. It was her and her daughter's death which sent her husband to Japan. I do not think that he has ever properly recovered."

"Your _nephew_? And he knows _nothing_ of the Wizarding World?"

"Nothing," Albus answered gravely. "I had hoped to give him a better introduction to it, and ease the transition from muggle to wizard."

"Why was he bought back _now_, of all times?" Snape demanded, mystified.

"Now that Tom has officially returned, I fear that he may be looking for any and all of our weaknesses. Not even Japan could be safe from him. Perhaps… I was too rash, blinded by my desire to pull the last of my family close within the haven Hogwarts offers. As the Youngest of my dwindling line, Ryou could be seen as my weakness. So I sent for him, and, now, he's in Tom's hands."

Snape frowned pensively, going through the bit of information that Lucius had shared with him. "Nothing about today's proceedings even hinted that the Dark Lord knew of any connection between the boy and you. I'd think that Voldemort, or Lucius, would have gloated, had he known."

The Headmaster fastened Severus in place with sharp look. "Then you suggest that he knows nothing of Ryou's relation to me?" He demanded incredulously. "Think hard on this, my boy. The difference means a lot."

Snape shook his head, diverting his gaze to the perch where the brilliantly golden phoenix preened on its perch. "I can't be certain. It's too early." He couldn't get the Albus' hopes up, the man had enough to deal with, without having them dashed should his spy be proved wrong.

Albus nodded, half-moon spectacles slipping lower down his nose. "I know. Keep your ears and eyes open for anything that could shed some light on this matter." He told Severus needlessly. "I'm not yet sure what I'll be telling the order."

Snape nodded anyway, watching as the Headmaster lowered his aged body back into his chair. Every wrinkle of his face spoke of exhaustion, and he looked terrible. Testimony, Severus knew, to the long nights and days devoted to running the Order and dealing with that nitwit Fudge's Ministry problems.

In many ways, things had been better before the Ministry recognized the Dark Lord's return. Back then, even with the pressures the Headmaster was under, he only had the Order to keep steady. At the rate that fool in Office was running Hogwarts' Headmaster, Albus was liable to run out of reserves and fall sick.

Good lord, he was over a century old, after all!

"Join me, my boy?" The elderly man requested after a short silence passed between them, summoning a house elf. "It's been ages since I've had time to just sit and talk with you."

Severus knew what the old man was doing, and felt grateful as well as annoyed. It was pointless for them to pretend at normalcy when the world had been twisted beneath their feet. Severus was far too old for these games to work on him.

But it would be nice to just sit and talk, as they always had. "If you wish, Albus."

"Two coffee, Gremm, please," Albus ordered when the elf popped into the room.

"Make that two _tea_," Severus corrected, sliding into a seat opposite of his mentor. "Albus, you are going to get some sleep tonight. Let Minerva take care of the fraud at the Ministry."

The poor elf scuttled away under the angry gaze of the Death Eater and resident Potions Master. Albus sighed.

"You know that I can't just leave this all in Minerva's hands, Severus. Cornelius needs me to-"

"Do I have to get that dratted nurse in here? I will, Albus, and she'll have a lot more to say than I about how much rest you need."

And she'd never stop fussing over him until term started, returning the school's little chicks to its mother hen. Judging by the look of defeat on the Headmaster's face, he was thinking the same thing.

Tea appeared in fine blue china, along with a tray of sweets. Severus ignored the tray, pouring their drinks and taking up his own steaming cup.

"Very well," Albus consented. "Now, what have you been busying yourself with…"

And, trading pleasantries long into the evening, Severus could almost believe that these past few years had been the same as any of those before, and that the aches in his body were only the cramps of muscles relaxing after tense hours of nothing more taxing than brewing potions.

* * *

The lamp-lit chamber Ryou had been left in was in the same dismal shape as the rest of the mansion. The walls were cracking, and dust lay heavy on the floor, coating the webbing in the corners. The only piece of beauty in the desolate chamber was the elegant four-poster he was sitting on. Its richly-carved posts supported sweeping curtains of violet and white, matching the thick quilts and bedding.

Ryou hugged his knees to his chest tightly. This time was the end, with no turning back. It wasn't just his spirit and Malik plotting some scheme to defeat the Pharaoh and take the puzzle and get revenge. These people that they had signed on with were dangerous unknowns, with a master that may be the three's equal.

Listening to their talk, Ryou had found himself chilled by that man's mere presence. The way Malik and Marik could control minds had not bothered him, and his tone changed only in that it had been a little more interested than before.

What _was_ the snake-man? Not human, surely. He looked more like a monster freed from its card. The only comfort Ryou had was that his link with his darkness, although mostly blocked, remained strong enough to let him know that the spirit was safe.

He hadn't been allowed to stay long after that snake had wrapped around him. When the serpentine master of this place began to show interest in his two visitors, Bakura had spoken up about wanting Ryou shut away.

And here he was, locked in this room, curled up in the centre of a King-sized bed and clinging to the little sanity he had left.

Wherever they were he wasn't sure, but they'd gotten there from London. Whatever the reason behind them being there was, It didn't matter. Reasons, he had learned, made little difference for the Ring Spirit's pet kitten and host.

Cloaked figures walked the halls beyond his door, and all throughout the mansion. They weren't very different, yet not at all the same, as Malik's Ghouls.

Soon, would Rashid haunt those halls like some misguided shadow? Funny that that thought comforted him.

Outside of his window, moonlight pouring down shifted the shadows more and more, until, as it descended farther into the room, the door to the chamber opened and closed. He heard no footsteps, only the soft creak as the bed depressed beneath an added weight. There were no words, so his spirit couldn't be angry.

In the comforting presence of his other half, Ryou unconsciously relaxed his grip on his knees. When the spirit made the lamps to flicker and die, he knew for certain that Bakura would remain out for the night.

Ryou awkwardly crawled beneath the heavy sheets and quilts, then lay still as stone, awaiting sleep.

End Ch.3

And here are the responses I left!

_Responses To Reviewers: _

Sachi-Chan: Thanks! I hope that I can keep it from becoming cliché. Grins And I hope that you keep reading! I'm not planning to quit!

Antago: Thanks! I hope this part didn't disappoint you. As for what that duo are doing in London, you'll be finding out sometime, but it was an innocent enough reason. Too bad that things for them can't seem to stay innocent! Of course, that's mostly their own fault.

Doremi: Thank you SOOO much for the compliments! Is all red from blushing

But nasty! Do you know that you made me feel embarrassed when I came back the third time to check for reviewers? Snickers I deserved it. I don't think that threats will be needed right now. If I can keep you liking this story, though, you can build up some good ones to terrify me into continuing when I come to that big, empty chunk between two parts that I'm getting pretty close to. . . Don't worry, I'll let you know when I'm there!

This story's set in Harry's 6th year, and I'm planning on Ryou being the same age. Is that what you were wondering? XD

Maruken: Hi! Sorry that this chapter isn't so hot, but I really hope that you like it and keep reading. I'm doing my best to make this into something good. That all just needed to be gotten through! I looked over it a few times, but there wasn't much that I could do, and I've only got a little longer before I have to run off. A friend's home from work for a few days! And thank you!

Seto/ryou4ever: I'll keep writing, don't worry! Thanks for reviewing!

Peter Kim: Yeah, it would be a pretty foolish thing for him to think, huh? Sadly, Voldie doesn't know just what he's dealing with yet. As for how Malik/Marik knows about Wizards, well, that'll pop up sometime in the future! They didn't just magically appear in London for my convenience. They have a perfectly logical reason for being where I want them to be! Winks Thanks for the review!

Well, I'm off to stick this up! It was longer than the last ones, but I couldn't end it until I got through the day. I want to start chapter 4 on the next morning. I hope that you'll continue to read my story!

(Oh! And did I spell Rashid right? I don't like the name in the dubbed very much)

**Please Review Þ**


	4. Be Careful What You Choose

**Continued Survival**

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

-Sighs sadly and shakes her head- I really didn't mean to fuck up anyone's life. I'm so unlucky! D

A/N: Edits! Edits! Edits! I actually went through the entire thing for once. Go me! 01/29/07

**Chapter 4 Be Careful What You Choose**

"Get up!" Ryou was snapped awake, and through blurry sight met his darkness' impatient amber gaze.

"M'up," Ryou mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut again, but he did climb onto his hands and knees. Losing patience, the Ring Spirit seized him by his waist and dragged him to his feet, blankets and all.

"Breakfast. _Now._"

And, hair greatly mussed from sleep, still in rumpled jeans and the shirt from the day before, he reluctantly followed his spirit off through the hollow halls and into a great chamber with a long, long table. Even in the daylight, which poured through the arching windows, the interior of this mansion remained sombre, air heavy.

There were only three people already at the table, the snake-man, sleek pet coiling around his ankles, Malik or Marik, and an aristocratic blonde. This last one glanced at them as they passed through the doorway. Then, turning to give a slow, canted nod to the master of the house, he stood, tucked his staff beneath his arm, and left.

"You both slept well, I hope." The snake-man greeted them after the blonde had exited. Ryou shrank back behind his darkness as the spirit continued forwards. In his mind, he was once again hearing that terrible hissing.

"Well enough," his darkness answered crisply for them both, and, on the last syllable, seized Ryou's wrist and led him to the table perforce, shoving him down onto a chair and taking the one next to it that the man had given up. This placed him to the snake-man's immediate left.

"Eat what you want," the master of the house offered silkily. One skeletal hand motioned to the food set out in front of them.

His other ignored it, but Ryou got himself a roll to pick at. This was his first chance at eating since the morning before and he was famished, so there was no way that he would miss it.

From the corner of his eye as he bit into his roll, Ryou caught his spirit's lips pulling back into a sneer. "Is this it?" The spirit demanded, eyeing the empty chairs around them and the offered food in distaste. It was a veritable feast laid out before them, but, of course, his darkness would turn his nose up at anything that wasn't bloody. The second part of the question, however, concerning how few were present, interested Ryou.

"Bakura." Malik scowled across the table at him from where he sat at the snake-man's right. His plate was empty, with only the stem off some kind of fruit lying on it. The darkness ignored his companion's warning, scowling at the snake-man expectantly.

Catching himself nervously tearing his roll into tatters, Ryou stopped himself and dropped the mangled bread onto his clean plate. He wasn't feeling very hungry anymore.

"You two will be it," the great snake responded stiffly. "Everyone else has eaten."

"Then why are you still here?"

Wincing, Ryou ducked his head and allowed himself to go back to shredding the roll. His spirit knew nothing of tact.

"He wanted to talk to us, Bakura, and you were too busy sleeping to grace us with your presenc," Marik snapped before the snake-man could speak. Ryou's spirit growled, a dangerous glint coming into his eyes.

"It was my fool host who couldn't get up, but say that again and you lose your soul," He threatened.

"But we need each other," Marik reminded him sulkily.

The Ring Spirit sprang to his feet, lips pulled back into a sneer so deep that his sharp canines showed. "_I don't need you._"

Malik chuckled deep in his throat, and, resting the rod down next to his plate, ran feather light fingers over it. "Don't you?" He inquired, seemingly uncaring that the object of his attention was trembling to be at his throat. "Here I was, thinking that I had something you wanted." He canted his head to one side, blonde hair tumbling off of his shoulders. "And don't others have the rest of what you need? _Strong_ others, who you couldn't defeat on your own?"

The snake-man remained silent, watching the unusual exchange with thinly veiled interest.

"I don't need you, Ishtar," the spirit repeated himself, but, for all the growl in his voice, he returned to his seat.

"Of course not," Malik responded snidely, and let it go at that, turning to the mansion's master. "What is it that you wanted?"

Breath hitching, Ryou let the last two chunks of roll that he held fall onto the bedding bread dots sprinkled over his plate.

_And don't others have the rest of what you need? _Strong _others, who you couldn't defeat on your own? _Malik had said. No matter how far away they were, would his other half never let the past go? There were so many other ways that he could find power, Ryou was sure of it. Why wouldn't he give up on this one, and leave one of the only friends Ryou had ever had despite the spirit's interventions alone?

The snake-man was talking, and his spirit and Malik were listening. Ryou wasn't. He felt the anger still burning through their link, but couldn't force himself to hear what the creature was saying. Whatever his darkness planned, he told himself, it'll be in the future. Yugi's smiling face drifted into his thoughts, and he banished it from his mind's eye.

There was nothing that he could do. That was his comfort, a blanket in the cold. Only, it was getting worn, letting the chill of reality pierce through its threadbare patches.

It was a kick to his shin that brought his head up. "Yes?" He quietly asked his darkness.

"I'm leaving tonight. You'll obey Malik and Voldemort."

He… was being left… with Malik and Marik… and a giant snake that talked…

"Y-yes, Yami-sama." His voice quavered, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn't eaten more than a bite of bread.

* * *

When Minerva McGonagall had returned from her visit with Mrs. Figg the night before, a solemn-faced Albus had greeted her with the news that Becca's son had been kidnapped. She had wanted to go and contact his father as soon as she heard, but Albus had forbidden it, saying that it was dangerous even for a wizard to wander about the streets of London at night. When morning came, she had wasted no time in leaving for Muggle London, and finding a payphone to contact Mr. Bakura. 

It was only nine in the morning there, and she wasn't sure what time it was in Egypt, but at the moment she really didn't care. The poor child! She wondered how he was taking it, and if he had been harmed. He had to be terrified! She'd been worried when he'd wandered off on her yesterday, but Severus had assured her that he'd let her know if he didn't find the boy, then sent her off for the appointed meeting with Mr. Lupon and Mrs. Figg.

With the impending marriage of the Muggle Studies professor, they were hard pressed for someone to take her place. Albus, not willing to trust his students to another Professor who could prove to be dangerous, was determined that Mrs. Figg would fill in the position. After all, she _did_ live as a muggle.

The crackling of the London payphone's poor connection was finally joined by a heavily accented voice. "_Hello?"_

Releasing a sigh that she hadn't known herself to be holding in, Minerva answered him. The possibility that no one answering that number could speak English had been starting to worry her. "Hello. I'm looking for Mr. Eugene Bakura."

There was a pause, crackling of static filling in the silence, then the man asked her to repeat herself.

"Mr. _Eu-ge-ne Ba-ku-ra_!" She repeated loudly, taking care to clearly enunciate the words. "Mr. _Eu-ge-ne Ba-ku-ra_."

'Professor Bakura' she made out amongst a string of other words as the man lowered the phone to speak to someone else, hopefully trying to get Mr. Bakura for her. Another voice, too far away to make out more than that it was a woman's, responded , and he came back.

"_Is it emergency?"_

Swallowing her desire to snap, she leaned against the plastic of the booth, massaging her temples. "Yes. It is. Tell him Albus Dum-ble-dore needs him. _Dum-ble-dore_."

The phone clanged loudly as it was set down, leaving her to wait impatiently for the archaeologist. It was fifteen minutes later when the phone was retrieved.

"_Hello?" _A masculine voice queried. "_I'm Professor Eugene Bakura. Is this Albus?"_

Her heart going out to the obviously exhausted man, Minerva steeled herself to her task. "No, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy-Headmistress of Hogwarts. I'm afraid that we have some unpleasant news, and need you to come to England as soon as possible."

"_What? Why?"_ He sounded mystified. "_Is it about my son? What happened?"_

"I'm sorry, Professor Bakura." She told him sincerely, wishing that she could be telling him in person. There was just no time. "Your son has been kidnapped. We're doing everything that-"

"_I'm on my way."_

There was a click and the line went dead. Over the noise of the phone, she'd heard his desperation just before he hung up.

* * *

Night had come, and, true to his word, the Ring Spirit had taken Ryou to a warm, round chamber and left him there with the snake-man, Voldemort, and a man around his father's age, who were both seated at a round table. Ryou recognized the second as the one who had left breakfast as they entered that morning. 

He was given a leather seat along the back wall, and was relieved that he wouldn't have to join them at the table, where an empty chair remained.

Just before leaving, the spirit scowled at him. "Behave, or else." Then he left, and his end of the link dropped into an oppressive void.

Closed into only himself now, Ryou sat with hunched shoulders as the two men there continued their interrupted discussion.

"With the Minister acknowledging your return, will our plans and patterns need revising, my lord?" The aristocratic blonde asked, his tone contemptuous.

"Not so much as you would think, Lucius. They'll be looking for us as well, now, but we need only to be sure that we leave nothing that can be found. Exempting the obvious."

"The Dark Mar," the one called Lucius agreed. Ryou frowned at the name, wondering what it could mean. He'd heard stories of how some terrorists left marks, so maybe that was something like that? "But now that old crackpot will be able to deal more damage, without the Ministry's toes stuck out to step on."

There was a hiss. "So I should watch out for him, should I?" Voldemort challenged.

Ryou held his breath as the tension within the room rose, digging his nails into his pant legs.

Lucius took his time, choosing his words with great care. "No, my lord. Of course I didn't."

"Of course not," Voldemort commented indulgently. Privately, Ryou felt that he would rather have his spirit disagreeing and angry with him than have him using that tone.

He wished that the spirit was there with him, not off wherever it was that he had gone. This place was terrifying enough when he was with his darkness. When he was there by himself, and not even having Malik or Marik in sight, he wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide in the shadows.

He wanted to hide in _his_ shadow, no matter if it would make the Ring Spirit cross.

The crackling of the fire grew to be deafening as the pair stopped talking.

"Anyway," Voldemort said at last, "these aren't matters that should be discussed in front of our young guest." The weight of those crimson eyes pierced through Ryou's soul, and he knew that the snake-man was looking at him. "You have more experience with children then I, Lucius. Why don't you entertain him for me?"

Or watch me for him, Ryou reflected numbly, wishing that those eyes would turn somewhere else.

"It would be my pleasure," Lucius answered. Beneath the words, Ryou could hear displeasure, but the snake-man didn't comment on it.

The door to the chamber clicked shut before Ryou looked up, knowing that another now looked at him. Lucius' icy blue eyes were narrowed in irritation. _I have more important things to do than sit here with some child_, Ryou could imagine the man thinking behind them.

"Well," Lucius purred, "why don't you come over here and let me _entertain_ you, then." Why, Ryou wondered uncomfortably as he stood and crept over to sit at the table, did this man remind him so much of Seto Kaiba?

"I'm sorry." He apologized, hoping that the man didn't blame him. Even after spending the day here, he understood this group no better than he had upon his arrival. Of course, after breakfast he'd been sent back to the chamber and left there until now. So far, all that he knew was that they all wore unusual, old-fashioned clothing; Cloaks, robes and high boots, and this man with his fashioned staff. It was some type of cult, he was pretty sure, and it was _never _good to get on a cult member's bad side.

The man scowled at him, making no pretence at civility. "You're the one that Severus carried in here, aren't you?" He demanded. "This _Bakura's_ pet."

Ryou flinched and gave a small nod. "I suppose so, sir." He answered honestly. "I wasn't…"

"Awake." Lucius sneered disdainfully. "I'm aware of that." A hint of curiosity entered those cruel eyes and one of the man's eyebrows slanted upwards. "I do wonder, however, what use you are to that pair, and Lord Voldemort, that keeps you alive."

Ryou shifted uncomfortably at the man's scrutiny, not answering. You can't just tell someone that you're the other half of someone's soul, and it was none of his business if the Ring Spirit kept him around for amusement.

And a convenient body, if his own was damaged.

"Cat's got your tongue?" The man taunted, and spun his cane with his fingers. "A pretty poor pet you make, if you can't even speak."

The man was right, so there was nothing for Ryou to say against it.

"I can read someone's fate." Ryou surprised himself by speaking.

"Can you?" Lucius sneered, a small spark of interest belying his condescension. "Then read mine."

Ryou slouched in the wooden chair, causing it to creak beneath his shifting weight. "I…"

Why had he offered that, when he only delved into the rivers of fate for his closest friends?

"You were lying?"

Gazing up at the aristocrat through his long, shaggy bangs, Ryou gave his head a small shake.

"Then there's no reason for you not to show me."

Giving his head another shake, Ryou slid his deck out of his pocket and held it out to Lucius, a quaver in his hand. It was hard for him to let another touch his deck, especially when it was someone that he didn't know. Letting them hold it was like handing them a shard of his fractured soul.

"You have to shuffle it and divide it into stacks." He explained softly, when all the man did was scowl at him.

The deck was taken, and the shuffling began. "How many piles?"

Ryou winced at the careless treatment being given to his deck. Had the man owned a deck of his own, Ryou could have simply taken it, unshuffled, and performed the reading on his own. Cards needed to hold an imprint of the one in question to reach beyond the threads of woven fate and fish from the innumerable possibilities what may be for them.

So, one without a deck of their own needed to shuffle the deck that was to be used, and give a part of themselves into its order.

"It doesn't matter." Ryou told him. And it didn't, for everyone was different, and a reading reflected that truth in the diversity of its patterns.

With an indifferent shrug, Lucius dealt the cards into seven piles.

"That's fine." Ryou responded to the irritated look sent his way. Brushing back his bangs, he straightened, and rested his hands on the table between himself and the cards, eyes drifting shut.

It took only an instant for him to reach out and feel the pulsing of the cards laid out before them. Of its own violation, one of his hands drifted over the small stacks, and fingers, feeling their way over them, paused above the second pile. He flipped the card.

"First is the Jar of Greed." Ryou read, knowing it without the need of vision. These cards were his, and their heart beat with his own. "Your life has been ruled by gain."

The hand moved to the third. "Second, the Dark Corridor. Journey down a hall. Your fate is moving."

He went to the fourth, and his fingers trembled at what he knew would be waiting. "Death Message E. The danger begins here."

Now he was pulled towards the fifth pile, and his fingers caught against a second card, flipping it along with the first. "Angel's Gift and Change of Heart. Third, gift or curse, gain or loss, it depends on the choice you are being led towards."

Visions troubled him as he lifted both his hands, resting forefingers against first and sixth stacks. "Headless Knight." Ryou swallowed and turned them. Sweat puckered his brow as he fought to maintain his connection against the raging of the images fighting for dominance of his mind's eye. "Fourth. They have you as a warrior, led by whichever the choice is that you choose."

The stench of death suffocated his senses, from a castle's moat tainted red by blood. The bodies it spilt from lied along its shore, and within the moat itself, floating upon its cursed currents. Something was gathered in a large cluster near that distant castle, muddled in the swirl of night's fog…

_Children! They were _children

He tried twice before the final card would come, and when it did, he could feel that two had fallen as he'd fumbled with them. "Death Message H, Death Message A. Fifth."

Opening his eyes and staring at Lucius weakly, Ryou let his arms sag upon the tabletop. "Your choice will be hard. If you ignore this warning, not only you, but also what you care for most, will be lost."

End Ch.4

Twitch

When I designed that warning for a later part of this story, I had NO IDEA how hard making it would be. Like the _brilliant_ author that I am, I never thought about having to search up what cards Ryou had in his deck besides the more popular ones.

Well. It's done. I didn't do it quite how I wanted it, but it'll have to do! I don't think I did it quite right, either, since it seems to me that Ryou went a bit heavier in the past than a simple 'this is how you've lived', but…

Ah well! XD

_Responses To Reviewers: _

Antago: Thank you! No, I don't really write poetry (I've tried, it's sad), but I did take extra care on the last chapter, and I'm glad that you liked it! I don't always remember to be descriptive when I write, it's one of my worst traits when it comes to writing )

The Inspector: Aw! I'm sorry! Grins I'll try not to update until after your review this time, M'kay? Winks But I bet you had fun while you were gone, and a few days away never hurt anyone… much…

Thanks for the review! And I _had_ to give Ryou that nickname, it's a thing that always seemed so perfect for him!

Rath Set-Seraph: Here's my update! Thank you for the review, you two!

Eden's Echo: Giggles Thanks! I adore Vacation Blues, but I'm a Ryou fan, and I know what you mean about there being so few Ryou ones. Any that were started seemed to just vanish, too. That's part of the reason that I let myself post this. The other was that I just couldn't stand waiting anymore, even with all the holes I have to iron out.

They'll be getting to Hogwarts eventually, but there're some things that have to happen first. Nothing too big, though, because Hogwarts will be where the main things happen.

Maruken: Thanks! I had tons of fun, too! He and a friend of his picked me up and we spent the night driving… Blinks Y'know, it was a pretty pointless night, too. But fun!

They sure did team up with him. Now lets just see how far this goes… Evil cackles

jamesbondlovesme: Uh… I'm sorry that I fucked up your life? O.o But I'm a bit confused about what 'HARRY POTTER IS MY HERO BITCH' has to do with it when this is a story posted in another fandom's section, with a main character from that fandom.

Marg: Laughs Thanks! I'm glad that you liked them, and that I didn't fuck up your life, too! XD

Sachi-chan: Hey! Grins Thank you! I'm hoping that it'll pick up soon, but it's taking me longer than I expected to get anywhere big. Still, I don't want to hurry it along too much.

Pssssst Did I fuck up your life?

Yeah, yeah. That review amused me far too much. And I'm overly hyper

Warning: At 19 years of age, one is just as susceptible to sudden spurts of hyperness as they are when they're younger.

Well, thanks again to everyone! You're the reason that I'm keeping this going!

Wanders off to figure out where Snape went. I want to get back to work on that big scene in the far-off future! Yes. . . I'm aware that I should be working on the next part, not something ages and ages away. . .

**Please Review Þ**


	5. For They Will Hold

**Continued Survival**

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

A/N: I just tried out the stats link in my profile… Whoa! -Hugs everyone!- I'm on three people's favourite list! And four are watching for my updates!

-Dancing around- Yay! Yay! And then I get all of your great reviews! I _love_ writing here!

Look! Look! I got the review responses up!

NEW A/N: Just doing a bunch of edits. I'll be going through all of the chapters, getting familiar with the style I was using here before starting to update again.

**Chapter 5 For They Will Hold**

Blood dribbled from his slender fingers, collecting in streams that seeped along scarred wood. As those rivulets gathered together, Ryou's heartbeat quickened in response to the symbol they were forming.

The Millennium Ring, glistening crimson and black in the candlelight

His vision died when the handle of Lucius' cane cut into his breathing.

"Malfoys do _not _enjoy being the butt of a prank," the oily blonde hissed. "_Especially_ not by children."

The confidence lent by joining with the cards also ended with the snake's head lodged against his oesophagus. It prevented him from apologizing, and all he could do was stare into that cruel face. Was the man going to hurt him? His darkness wasn't there to protect him, and the blocks between their minds were unbreakable.

But would it really be so bad if he did hurt him, or killed him? It'd be nice, seeing Amane again, and his mother…

Then the storm passed, grey eyes glazing. Moving mechanically, Lucius lowered his staff and stepped back, giving Ryou a clear view of Malik framed in the doorway, tapping his chin with the Millennium Rod's blade.

"Bakura will be pissed," the Egyptian commented to Ryou, grinning evilly. "Should I kill him now, or let Bakura have his fun?"

Malik must've made up his mind, for clarity returned to the man's eyes. Lucius' gaze darted between Ryou's wide orbs, and Malik's smirk, before the shaken man's regained full control, his command of himself returning..

Breath steadying, Lucius sneered coolly. "You caught me unexpected this time," he told them maliciously, "but not again. My lord will hear about this."

And, with one last glare, Lucius stalked out of the room.

Watching Lucius leave, Malik snickered, rising gooseflesh along Ryou's skin. "Gather up your cards. You're going to bed."

Where he'd be out of the way. Ducking his face from the Egyptian's sight Ryou collected his cards off of the table and followed Malik to his room, wishing all the way that his spirit was there, and that his hands weren't so cold.

* * *

Memories of smiles and laughter rose within him, mocking, as Professor Eugene Bakura left the plane and stepped down onto his native soil for the first time since _their_ deaths. Not even the noisy bustle of the airport, with family yelling to be heard over booming engines and passengers pushing their way to and from the planes, could distract his thoughts from what had once been. 

It felt like forever ago that Becca had smiled at him and told him that she wanted to move in with him. They'd been together for little over two months, and hadn't even _talked_ about their possible future together.

' _I know that your work keeps you travelling, Gene. I just want to make sure that you have to keep coming back to the present, and to _me_.'_

Her words had been as casual as a dinner invite, and his assent had been spluttered and awkward. Not being a wizard, he'd known nothing of Voldemort, and her desire to protect him hadn't been something he would've been able to understand.

It was after their marriage, coming a month later, that she'd told him about witches and wizards, muggles and Voldemort.

Brown eyes swelled red with tears, long raven hair carelessly tangled, her strength had cracked in the circle of his arms that night, and the story of an embittered Tom and her ancient uncle had tumbled from trembling lips in a jumbled mess.

That anything could crumble his little lion's control had shaken him to the core, and even her declaration concerning the existence of magic had paled in comparison to the quaking of her voice, and the tremble in her lithe body. He'd agreed to her plea to leave her world without ever having entered it, and moved their belongings to Norway.

From then on, she accompanied him on his digs, even after the births of their first and second children. It warmed his heart that sunlight smiles returned, and their golden days were never tarnished by the shadows staining her past.

Becca would often tell stories of her uncle and his bravery, embellishing on what she knew to weave tales that would leave her tiny Ryou captivated, and clinging to a slumbering Amane's hand. For Eugene's part, he'd tell them legends and history from the places that they went, much of it centred on Egypt, a favourite of his, and the place that kept him sane after his love's passing.

And, now, her Ryou was in danger from that past that she had them leave, and Egypt could do naught to hide him from that knowledge. That he could have prevented this from happening by looking after Ryou himself, he was sure of. In hindsight, Eugene Bakura cursed the selfishness that had led him to pounce upon the opportunity to hand over the care of a son he didn't know to a complete stranger, one that he'd only met through dimly remembered stories.

Professor Eugene Bakura was well into his forties, with sandy grey hair in bad need of a cut and an oval face lined with an exhaustion echoed in his shadowed bluish-green eyes.

He was stepping out of the airport and into the night, having retrieved his navy suitcase of sixteen years, and prepared to hail a cab - he'd worry over how he'd find Albus Dumbledore later - when a man in a long, black coat and a worn hat accosted him.

"I'm sorry, good sir." Eugene apologized as he shook off the restraining hand on his shoulder, his words sounding strained to his own ears. "I'm much too busy, and I haven't any change to spare."

Wide blue eyes had widened in shock at his words, then a freckled nose wrinkled with amusement.

"No, Professor Bakura," the stranger hastened to reassure him, "I'm not looking for any money. I'm here to pick you up."

Taken aback by the youth knowing his name, Eugene Bakura narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?" He pressed, one grey brow quirked.

The youth, taking no offence, grinned. Actually looking at something for the first time since yesterday's call, Eugene was surprised to note that, no matter how mature the young man looked in his long coat, he couldn't be in any more than his late teens. "I'm to take you back to Professor Dumbledore."

The archaeologist blinked. How could the man have known that he'd been arriving? It couldn't be that he'd had someone waiting there ever since the call, could it? And one so young? That would be insa-

Of course not. Shaking the exhaustion-induced ramblings from his thoughts, Professor Eugene Bakura gave the man a small, forced smile. "Thank you. It's kind of you to come and meet me." Becca had told him about her uncle, and his uncanny ability to know things. It must have been magic.

"It's nothing." The youth grinned again, and led him back into the airport. Fighting the urge to question him, Professor Eugene followed, the glass doors parting for them.

He _did_ question him when they stopped at the door to a loo.

"We can't use a portkey in front of all those muggles!" The youth exclaimed in answer, drawing a few strange glances from those passing nearby. His face flushed a brilliant scarlet, and into the restroom he ducked, Eugene Bakura hastening to follow.

Thankfully, the room was empty. The youth wasted no time in telling him that, had it been in use, they'd have had to of stood and waited for the crowd to clear out.

"Now," the young man went on, brandishing an old stick as if it were a sword, and giving Professor Eugene Bakura the unsettling feeling that he was about to be robbed, "just touch the end of this stick, and we'll get into Professor Dumbledore's office."

So, feeling quite silly, the greying professor did as he was bid, and both vanished with a hiss and a pop.

* * *

Lying next to his darkness in the bed, his back turned to the resting spirit's body, Ryou listened to him breathe. It was strange on the first night, hearing that steady breathing from someone dead for over five millennia, but it had also been the first night of unbroken sleep that he could ever remember having. 

Now, if he was forced to sleep without his spirit near, he wasn't sure if he could do it. He'd become dependant upon the soothing sound, and the warmth of having another body near his own. It allowed him to believe that he wasn't alone in this world, and that he hadn't dreamt up the other dwelling inside of him, sharing this life.

But, tonight, not even the presence of his spirit could coax him to sleep. The mansion, and all of its inhabitants, terrified him, and he kept on seeing the man named Lucius glaring at him hatefully, threatening to tell his lord about Malik using his powers against him.

Nor could Ryou understand how Lucius had taken the show of powers so easily. Might it be, he worried, that the serpentine man held a magic of his own? That could be why so many gathered here, and seemed to worship the master of the mansion. Why, too, his darkness and Malik were interested in thar serpentine man.

This idea had no real grounds, yet, it wasn't so impossible, when he himself had seen magic used and wielded, both for good and bad.

At least, that's what he thought that it was used for, good and bad. Bakura believed strongly that there were no good and bad, only levels of power. Couldn't that be right, too? It could be that the weak, like he himself, created the notions of good and evil for their own protection from the strong, like his other half.

What, he suddenly wondered, feeling a sliver of fear stab his soul, will Professor Snape have told his father?

A pang of hunger tore through his stomach and he winced, fisting his hands in his violet blankets. Tomorrow, he vowed, I eat, no matter what arguments my spirit and Malik or Marik get into.

Morning took a long time coming.

Ryou had been laying in the same way for hours, and was as stiff and uncomfortable now as he'd been when the spirit first laid down to rest. A light sleeper, his dark would awaken at the slightest shift in the bed, and so he didn't dare move, lest he awaken and anger his dark half.

Dawn's vibrant pink, coming through the window, let him know that he wouldn't have much longer to wait for the spirit's awakening, anyway. Soon day would begin, and he'd be forced to follow Bakura wherever the other wanted.

The blankets were getting heavy, and he sighed, glad, at least, to have his face turned towards the only source of hope in the depressing chamber. The night before, he'd noticed that they were only two stories up. It wouldn't hurt all that much, to jump out and make a break for the nearest phone.

Fingers coiled in his hair, and Ryou sighed again, burying his face into his pillow.

"It _would_ be easy, wouldn't it," The spirit taunted, leaning close to his ear. "Why haven't you tried, then, my little fool?"

Because the little freedom that he had would be taken away? Because he was too scared to try? Maybe even because he didn't want to leave the other half of his soul. The answer didn't matter, so he didn't bother to speak. The spirit could force his way into his mind, if he _really_ wanted an answer, and rip it from his light effortlessly.

The spirit shook his hand free from Ryou's hair, and Ryou waited until the darkness stood before he turned his face back towards the window, where the pink of the sky was being overcome by gold.

He didn't feel well, but that was only because he hadn't eaten more than a few bites of roll in the past two days, and he'd fix that problem as soon as he could. Water would help him, too, since his throat was parched. The spirit didn't take much notice of what those still dwelling in the physical world needed to remain healthy, but Ryou couldn't fault him for that. Five millennia, locked away in pure darkness, could make anyone forget what they once needed to live and breathe.

When his spirit ordered him to get up and follow him, Ryou did as he was told, and was slightly relieved to be allowed to duck into a bathroom and wipe hi face clean. The toothbrush thrust at him was also a welcome surprise, even if he had only water to use on it.

There hadn't any time to do anything much, for the darkness' annoyance was strong through the link, but he hadn't much that he could do, anyway. A shower would have been nice, and he desperately needed a change of clothes, since these were ones he'd been wearing for the past two days, but he didn't have any others to wear, and, as for the shower, well, it could wait, he supposed.

Uncomfortable conscious of the state he was in, he followed the dark spirit down into the dining hall, and, after the other dropped onto a chair, he took his place in the seat next to him.

Voldemort, the snake-man, was already there, and Lucius, at his left, as well as Malik, who was scowling at a cluster of grapes. Ryou felt reasonably sure that they weren't what Malik was seeing, and by the silvery eyes directed at him in a glare, Ryou was doubly sure that it was Lucius who was causing Malik's anger.

"As I was discussing with Malik," Voldemort spoke up in his unpleasant voice, "Lucius informed me that Malik and your pet attacked him."

Ryou's choking on his water went ignored by the others. "Is that so?" His darkness inquired silkily, one eyebrow arched above an amber eye.

"Yes." Voldemort answered simply, gazing back at the spirit with cold, crimson eyes. "I don't believe that I have to tell you I don't appreciate guests bothering my loyal followers?"

"Of course not." The darkness bared his teeth in a cruel grin. "But I assure you, my kitten has no claws, and only the softest of teeth. Tell me about this attack."

Overcoming his shock, Ryou forced another bite of breakfast done, wincing when he bit his finger instead of the toast.

Voldemort had his eyes locked onto Bakura's, cold blood and burning wine measuring each other. Malik stopped scowling at the grapes to watch this exchange, and his hand, beneath the table, probably wrapped around the Millennium Rod.

"Lucius was looking after him for me, and the boy told him that he could tell him his future." Ryou winced again, for his spirit shot him a dark look on those words, before locking his gaze back onto the snake-man's. "At the end of this game, Ishtar used those powers in his possession to steal control of him while he was distracted."

"And?" The darkness needled, for Voldemort had stopped talking.

"Nothing more came of this, but that doesn't matter. You will _not_ use your powers against my own. Not if you want to live."

Ryou was sure that his darkness would stand, that Malik would lash out, and that their alliance was ended. It shook him when his spirit murmured, low and dangerously, "Of course not."

Silence lay heavy over the table, marred only by Ryou's uncomfortable chewing.

"Then let this be the last time." Voldemort concluded the talk, breaking eye contact to give both the spirit and Malik a suspicious frown. "As for the young one's clothes, I've had one of my followers gather some old robes from his son, as well as what else he'll need, and bring them here. I hope that these will be adequate."

Ryou, taken by surprise, looked at Malik again, and, for the first time, noticed that he had new clothes on, a set in his normal style. His spirit, too, wore clothing differing from what he had worn when he first separated from Ryou and the Ring

"I don't care." The darkness answered, giving a snort. "Just give them to him. He'll be fine."

A sullen Lucius was sent for the clothes, and he returned soon, dumping them next to the relieved Ryou's plate. Even If they were in the style of this peculiar cult, he was desperate for clothes. It'd be so nice to get cleaned up.

"Yami-sama?" He voiced, turning to his dark hopefully. The spirit sneered.

"Your smell's starting to bug me, too. Go."

Flushing in embarrassment, Ryou stood and hurried from the room, his bundle cradled in his arms. The mansion was large, but he could remember where the bathroom was, since he'd been there more than twice, and the sooner he was clean, the better he'd feel.

End Ch.5

Here we are! Ryou's still lost, his father's on his way to meet Dumbledore, and who knows what mischief Bakura and Marik/Malik are getting into? I'll give you one hint: _not _Ryou.

Well, it's only a day later, so I'll post my responses now! Waves to everyone Thanks!

_Responses To Reviewers: _

Antago: You _did _like the reading? Thanks! Maybe it wasn't as awful as I thought, then ) And yep, that's his choice! Now we just have to see how he reacts.He reacted in this chapter, all right, but maybe he'll take the time later to think about all the changes going on?

Maruken: Boo! Only two of the psychos headed out last time, but where they went? Hehe. You'll have to wait and see! I agree on the poor Ryou part, he's going to have a hard time. And don't worry, Snape's still there, and still very important. He just hasn't been useful these last few updates!

Eden's Echo: Malik and Marik were around, but they didn't feel like sticking in one place. You know them, they have to sniff out everything that they can before they do what they're supposed to.

And they had something to do, first! (Winks Glad I pipped your interest! Now I just gotta keep it wrapped up here! X)

Rath Set-Seraph: Grins and waves Glad to hear from you again! I'll have the next part out as soon as I can. Thanks!

evilcourtney: No, no! You shouldn't apologize, it had nothing to do with you! And I wasn't upset about it… I was kinda amused… Sheepish grins People are people, and it's pointless to think that one person from the same place will be exactly the same as the rest!

And thanks for the GREAT review! I hope that it stays original, I'm working really hard to keep it that way. I'm not sure about the _yaoi_, but any relationship will be between Ryou and Bakura, if there's one. Even without the relationship acknowledged, there's a strong bond between them, which I'm trying to show.

And Bakura's possessiveness.

No, Bakura isn't great to him. Yes, Ryou's spirit often scares him. I'm aiming for there to be a shounen-ai-ish quality to my story, since that's where my favourite pairings have been lately. (I'm sorry, I just can't find any YuGiOh b/g pairing that I like besides Jou and Mai, and even they pale in comparison to Kaiba/Jou!) I hope that I have enough in it to keep your guttered mind happy. I'm aiming for a sort of shounen-ai quality! XD

The Inspector: Hmm… Excellent deduction, Inspector! You just may be right. After all, what else could Lucius prize so highly?

Power is good, of course, and so is respect, but do you think that they'd be as valuable if you had no one to carry on your gains?

It's good that you're still hooked, and this is just beginning! Man it's taking me a while to get to Hogwarts….. I want to get them there! And I promise that I would've waited, but I couldn't see my reviews, and doubted that I'd get to see them before another week or so went by!

Hopeful Looks Forgive me…?

Yukina89: Thanks! And I will! See? An update!

Here we are! My chapter has been replaced, for anyone who read this earlier, but it's all the same, just with the reviews!

_Well, Bye!_

**Please Review Þ**


	6. Your Only Hope

**Continued Survival**

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

A/N: Here's the next part! Whew! So far it's pretty tame, but I'm starting to worry that I may have to up the rating in the future.

The next chapter shouldn't take too long. It's already started!

_New A/N: EDITED! Yep, this is still valid :)  
_

**Chapter 6 Your Only Hope**

Ryou found soap and shampoo that he could use in the bathroom, and took his time in the shower, reveling in the chance to finally wash away the grit of the past days. As he did this he thought back over his experiences since leaving Domino, and found himself continually worrying over his father and what would happen next. He knew that it wasn't likely that he'd see the man again for a long time. It was even more possible, he reflected somberly, that he may never _get_ to see him again.

The sting of pain these thoughts brought to his heart that he honestly didn't understand. His father was a shadow from the past that sent money to keep him alive and fed, one who called every three or so months to be sure that his son was safe. Other than that the man held no part in his life at all. Ryou didn't know anything that made his father laugh, didn't know how he felt about sports, school, or even if he had any friends.

Still, Ryou hurt when he considered never hearing from him again. A stinging hurt, like something being torn from his chest.

But his spirit was here, and wasn't going to leave anytime soon. This he tried to use to comfort himself.

No matter what anyone said, Ryou knew that he owed his spirit a lot. He refused to forget the night he'd awoken on the deck of Kaiba's airship, terrified and in pain, when his spirit had been the only one to answer his pleas for help, reclaiming control to shelter him from the attack that was to come.

Ryou knew what he'd missed by how much pain he'd felt when the attack was over, and how weak he'd been. The muddled memories of lying sprawled over Honda's back, weary and clinging to consciousness, made his body ache even in their remembrance. He didn't know the details, but he knew enough.

Even if he never found out what exactly happened during that time, he was content with the knowledge that his spirit had still needed him enough to protect his health.

But this wouldn't ease his other hurts. Not his father's distance, not his mother's death, and never Amane.

He barely knew his sister now, but he loved her.

Ryou forced his thoughts off of this tangent, directing them back to where consideration was needed-what were his darkness, Malik and Marik up to?

Ryou knew that Malik's Ghouls had been puppets the Egyptian manipulated, but the other boy didn't seem to be using the Rod at all often here, if the snake-man's annoyance over yesterday's use of it meant anything. Had he been right in guessing that the snake-man held some power he didn't know of, but that his darkness and the Egyptians did?

If so, what could it be? The ability to talk to snakes he knew about, since he'd seen it a few nights back, but that couldn't be _it_. Something like that could never hold the three's attention for so long.

The power would have to be useful, and in some dark, chaotic way. It would probably have something to do with the Shadow Realm, too.

No, that made no sense. This was a long way from Domino, and all of the Shadow Magic left in the world had seemed to be drifting towards the location of the Pharaoh and his reincarnation, not hiding off in England, skulking about dark mansions and hissing at snakes.

Oh. He was getting _nowhere_! And it didn't matter, Ryou reminded himself, trying to will his mind to accept this. None of this had anything to do with him, and never would. If his spirit wanted to be in England, and they _were_ in England, because he couldn't imagine them being any farther away than that, then they would be in England until his spirit and the Egyptians deemed their stay no longer useful.

Carefully replacing the borrowed toiletry, Ryou decided that he'd been in long enough and turned off the water before stepping out of the steam and into the cooler section of the room. His previous clothing had been removed, as well as his socks and sneakers, leaving only what he'd received from Lucius. Drying off, he towelled his hair viciously before moving to get dressed.

All he'd been given were a robe and some undergarments, but at least these were clean. The robe was long, draping over his feet, and he could only see the heaped cloth twitch when he wiggled his toes.

Stumbling over to the long mirror against the wall and wiping off the gathered steam, Ryou saw himself staring back. The baggy gown draped over his form, coupled with the wet hair dripping on his face, made him look far younger than he was.

Was this, Ryou wondered, how he'd looked when he was trapped within Change of Heart?

* * *

Eugene Bakura swayed as the ground beneath his feet solidified again. Blinking dizziness back, he found himself in a cluttered but bright office, with walls lined by glowing knickknacks and chattering portraits. 

The clearing of a throat drew his gaze from the sparkling of a globe beside an old-looking sword and to the old man behind the desk that these belonged to. Heat of embarrassment rising in his cheeks, the archaeologist hastened forward, the stick still in the hand he offered him.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore? It's a pleasure."

The old man smiled benignly, plucking the stick out of the younger man's hand and setting it aside. "I agree, though I'd rather have our meeting under different circumstances."

Those words reminded Eugene about his son, and the weight of his failure returned.

"Professor?" The youth with them grinned and gave a little wave to Becca's uncle, reminding them that he was there.

"Ah," the old man gave a wry smile. "Thank you, Fred. I'm sorry that I had to call you away from work."

"No trouble, Professor!" The redhead chirped, waving and heading for the door behind them. "Just floo the shop if you need anything else!"

This momentary distraction lent Eugene another chance to gaze around, and his eyes widened at the sight of a brilliantly golden bird perched next to where the headmaster sat. It raised its eyes from preening, fixing them on Eugene's with a sentience that went beyond any normal bird. It was a burst of flame given form and living beauty, housing its knowledge within its immortal body.

A phoenix.

"_Lovely…" _He breathed, gazing back at it with a wonder that escalated when it gave a melodious conversational trill.

"A good boy, Fred Weasley," Professor Dumbledore commented, drawing the archaeologist's attention back to him. The merriment in his blue eyes dimmed, the act of cheer now cast aside.

Now the old man stood and moved to the roaring fire behind the desk, pulling some black powder out of a vase and tossing it into the flames. Eugene jerked back as they roared high, the shifting to a vibrant emerald, then jerked back again, for the man shoved his head straight into the feral flames.

"Severus, my boy, Professor Bakura has arrived. Could you come and join us, please?"

Eugene swallowed numbly, steadying himself before the ancient fellow turned back to him. He wasn't comfortable here, and it was pointless to play at being so, but he had to believe that he could grasp its ways and learn to live in them. How else could he ever hope to regain Becca's boy?

"Professor Dumbledore, please tell me what happened."

The school's Headmaster looked up at him, and for the first time Eugene Bakura took notice of the weary lines in the old man's face. This was the uncle his love had all but worshiped as a steadfast beam holding her world together, and he could see the wisdom and pain it took him to be that tireless warrior. There was strength in this deceptively frail old man, with his snowy beard and lined face.

"I'm afraid that all I know comes from my colleague, Mr. Bakura," the old man apologized. "Professor Snape will be here soon, and he'll tell you everything. Please have a seat?" He motioned towards the two chairs before his desk, but before Eugene Bakura could seat himself another man strode in, black robes billowing in his haste.

"Ah," the Headmaster said brightly. "Severus. Eugene Bakura, Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and teacher of Potions for this school. Severus, this is Professor Eugene Bakura, whom I was telling you of earlier."

Eugene Bakura stepped towards the sallow-skinned man, holding out his browned hand in greeting, but the other ignored it, giving him a foreboding frown. "Charmed," he muttered, obviously not meaning it.

Taken aback, the archaeologist hesitated, then dropped his hand. Why, he wondered uncomfortably, did he get the feeling that this man didn't like him?

"You're the man who met my son at the airport, am I right?" Eugene Bakura asked conversationally, though he wanted to demand answers from this unknown fellow.

"That's correct." There was definitely a sneer in the edge of that tone. Eugene cast the Headmaster an uncertain glance, and the man rescued him.

"Please take a seat, both of you." They did. "Severus, will you tell Eugene what happened?"

"Of course," the dark-eyed man responded dourly, and plunged into the telling of it.

"I was called on to meet with an _acquaintance_", this word was heavily laced in contempt, "of mine residing in London, and so I went, bringing Mister Bakura with me. Minerva, a colleague of both mine and Albus', met me there outside a pub we both frequent-"

Here the old man cut him off with a heavy sigh. "Please, Severus, we have nothing to hide from Mister Bakura. Go on."

The chastised man shot the Headmaster a dark look, but continued. "She took Mister Bakura from my care, heading deeper into muggle London while I went into ours and met with the _acquaintance-"_

Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, an actual frown gracing the old lips.

"For god's sake, Albus, as _if_ the muggle knows who-"

"Language."

"-Remus Lupin is!"

"Please, Severus, humour me," the old man requested.

Eugene wished that this exchange amused him, but he was too tense waiting for the explanation it was delaying to take any enjoyment in the parental tone and actions of the elder man towards the surely professor.

He'd never experienced exchanges like this in his own life.

"_Fine_. While Lupin and I had our meeting, the boy apparently wandered off and Minerva, after an unsuccessful search for him, came to us and asked me to take over the search so that she could attend an appointment of her own."

"Hogwarts is in need of a new Muggle-Studies professor," the old man supplied. Eugene could remember that the term meant non-magical people and gave a distracted nod, intent on the other man's words.

"I, of course, went in search of him. He was found wandering aimlessly around a darker street in London, but before I could get to him another young man, Egyptian, seized him from behind and dragged him into an alleyway."

Here the Potions Professor paused, and gave Eugene Bakura a contemplative frown that froze him inside. "_Where_, pray tell, did this young boy of yours meet up with a wizard-born?"

Out of anything that he could expect from the dour man, this wasn't one of them. It wasn't even possible that his son could know anyone from Becca's world! He'd kept him away from it, going so far as to take him into Japan, and Ryou had never been to Egypt.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

"The one who grabbed him", Severus Snape responded levelly, "and ordered me to take them to the Dark Lord was a wizard, and your son knew him."

"That's impossible." Eugene Bakura blurted out, shaking his head in negative. But was it? He didn't know his son, or who he spent his time with, so how could he tell them who his son did and did not know?

* * *

The wooden floor was icy against Ryou's bare feet as he padded down the dim hallway leading to his chamber and he wished that he'd at least been given socks. Not that he'd voice this displeasure. Shaking his hand out of the too-long sleeve, he opened his door and took a step in before freezing, his very blood going still in his veins. 

On the bed awaited two new dolls, both male, their wooden eyes gazing into oblivion with twin expressions of horror. Oblivious to the amused spirit watching his progress from where he leaned next to the window, Ryou crept closer, trembling fingers rising to touch their cool cheeks.

Two new spirits had been lost by the mortal world. Ryou didn't know how high this made the tally, he refused to ever count the collection he took care of. Settling himself on the bed beside them, he picked them both up and rested them on his lap, taking up the brush from the bedside table to tend to their tangled hair.

"Two new dolls for my little kitten to play with," the spirit purred, but was paid no mind.

What of the others, Ryou now worried. They'd been left with Professor Snape, sealed away in the bag he'd packed himself. Who would take care of _them_?

Who they were didn't matter. Ryou never wondered what they'd been like, or about their families anymore. When he'd been young, well, that had been then. What counted was that they were looked after, kept clean and content. He was supposed to protect them.

"It was considered a sin to kill cats," his darkness commented this time, watching Ryou brush the knots from their hair. "Anyone who killed one, no matter if it were by accident, was executed."

Feeling a shiver along his spine, Ryou set the dolls aside and moved on to his own thick mane.

Trying to discourage his spirit through inattention didn't work, for he continued.

"That's why you're my kitten, Ryou. It'd be sinful to kill you, and you're so like a cat. A creature in honour of the deities."

Feeling something in his chest constrict, Ryou murmured, "You've committed lots of sins, Bakura. Desecrating the tombs housing the Pharaohs that Ra and those above sent you is far worse than the killing of a cat."

As soon as those words had escaped, Ryou wished that he could take them back before his darkness killed him. However, the spirit only chuckled. "And I'll commit many more sins. I didn't know that my kitten was so smart."

Flushing in embarrassment, Ryou ducked his head and laid the brush down next to him. "I'm sorry."

As the other pushed off of the wall, Ryou could feel his spirit's calm melting into annoyance. "You read our cards for him."

This must have been bothering the other. Sighing, Ryou ran his fingers over the rough quilt, nodding. "I did," he answered simply. Whatever was coming, there was no point in avoiding it.

"_Why?_" The demand was harsh and dangerous, rumbling in the darkness' throat.

"I don't know." Ryou shifted uncomfortably, aware that the other was stalking closer. "I…I don't know."

He knew that it was a poor answer, but it was the truth, and the best that he could give. What else could he say, that the man had called him worthless and he'd thrown out this talent as a random show of worth?

"It was stupid. If he had believed you, they would be using your powers every chance they got."

At least this answered why his spirit was upset. His other half didn't like to share anything, not even if that something's use may indirectly benefit him. Ryou, falling under the bar of his spirit's possessions, had inadvertently threatened that possessive streak.

"I'm sorry, Yami-sama." He said again, and it ended at that, the spirit removing himself from the chamber and Ryou, whose only company became two wooden dolls.

End Ch.6

Hey!

It looks like I can update again, so here's the next chapter. That last scene was a bit rough, but I had to take it out of past tense, since it wasn't going to be a memory anymore. (Otherwise, this chapter would've either taken me a lot longer to get out, or would've been very short. It used to be connected to a huge chunk of story, a sort of opening for the next chapter via Ryou's memory of returning to the room, and then going back to where he was currently.)

But, alas, that part isn't going away. It's in the next chapter. Opening it… Ryou gets to meet a _very_ special lady. Snickers

Whatever works, hm? XD

_Responses To Reviewers: _

Antago: Thanks! It was Fred, but I guess you already know that, hm…George just stayed and worked. Can't always follow each other around, y'know! And who would've been tending their shop? Well, besides that friend Lee of theirs…

Actually, I think Ryou did draw some blood! It'll be something poor Lucius Malfoy will have to think about later.

Jaded Katrina: Laughs Hey! I can't answer those two, or they won't be a surprise! I do feel kinda guilty about not telling where Bakura went, especially since I'm not exactly sure when it'll come up in the story, but it's just too important to let out!

As for Dumbledore, he'll be getting his nephew back eventually, but it'll be happening after school starts back up. And thank you! I'll do my best to keep it coming out right!

C.M Aeris Queen Of Insanity: Aw! But it's better to be confuzzled than know what's going on and be bored, isn't it? )

The Inspector Yay! Forgiven! Does a happy dance!

I really wish that Sirius hadn't died. His death put a big damper on my first plot, and I'm still not totally sure that he's going to be dead in this. He _should_ be, since I'm trying to stick to the two worlds as best I can, but… Stops herself before she rips out any hair

As for it being a Weasley, well, you're good! T'was Fred!

And thanks a ton for the WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL review! I love it! A LOT! And I was pretty proud about that line you mentioned. G Poor Ryou.

Severus will definitely see Ryou there, and Bakura. But the circumstances will be a bit… different than Lucius' meeting with them. What will Severus know? What will he be guessing at?

You gotta wait and see!

Added Note: I'm _so_ glad that I caught your last review before I updated! Thank you! I have the perfect place for a cute little scene like that! If you'll let me borrow it? _Pleeeeaaase?_ XD

Oo! She sounds so adorable! I wasn't ever lucky enough to have a little sister or brother, but I have the next best thing-a niece and nephew! Blinks Wait. The next best thing? The little buggers are EVIL!

Whoa… This response is getting long… Eh, sorry?

Eden's Echo: Thanks! I hope that I can keep updating regularly, but I'm going to have some trouble soon if I don't get cracking on the immediate future. I've been working on the far-off instead of right now, the only exception being what I get ready for the chapters about to be posted. Tonight I'm going to fix that, though! (Hopefully)

Maruken: Pops some of the question marks and grins

Do you have any idea how many times e-mailed me your review? Snickers Y'know how the site went crazy? I couldn't log in, so I couldn't turn off the review alerts. The others all came in ones or twos, but yours attacked me!

It came at least **40** times. It gave me something to laugh over when I couldn't read new stories, though,. so even if it wasn't really your doing, thanks! (Can you tell that I've been bored?)

Hmm… Ryou using his claws on Bakura's back? Whatever could you mean! tsk, tsk And sorry about the blank hint. I'm nasty about keeping my secrets, see: )

rogue solus: I'll have to try them out sometime soon. I'm a bit cautious around Anzu, since I don't like a lot of people's interpretations of her as a serious character. I don't think that I'd be able to manage. (I _love_ the evil-monster-spouting-off-friendship-speeches ones! Ducks Don't hurt me! Please!)

I hope that this new chapter is alright!

Thanks again, everyone! Now I must go off into the sunset and write my little heart out!

**Please Review Þ**


	7. Of Survival

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/N: And I'm starting this one before I even post the last! I'm on a roll tonight. ((And I'm posting this a day earlier than I was going to! Aren't I wonderful? ))

Chapter 7 Of Survival

His darkness had gone out once more, leaving Ryou sitting on a burgundy couch in the snake-man's conference room. Why burgundy, he wondered miserably, casting a morose look at the horribly uncomfortable piece of furniture he'd been perched on for the last hour. Burgundy was a horrible colour. He'd reached this conclusion fifteen minutes into his stay, after spending that time staring down at the arm of the couch his elbow was settled on, pointedly ignoring Malik's presence. Yes, he'd gotten sick it. It was a hue that was supposed to be linked with warmth, comfort, not nonconforming couches that were stiff as a board. Several men and women in those long black robes he was stuck in shared this room with them, but this particular seat was left solely to he and Malik.

Sneering glances were being cast their way every now and then, making Ryou rethink his decision of actually paying attention to those around him.

"What a lovely little doll!" A feminine voice simpered, startling Ryou from his thoughts as she lowered her skeletal form onto the couch between he and Malik. Her hands went straight to his hair, weaving braids into the pearly locks as she hummed a childish tune.

Back going stiff as the couch, Ryou edged closer to its burgundy arm, staring at her as she worked obliviously on his hair. That she was insane he could tell by a single look at her sunken face, where the cheeks rose of youth had withered to chalk and lay lax and waxy beneath her blazing cobalt eyes.

Malik gave a sound of amusement.

The woman, blissfully ignorant to his discomfort, began to tell him stories as she spun his hair into the uneven plaits.

"Filthy mud-bloods, filthy half-bloods, you'd never imagine the many I've played with." Her senseless words were a shade below shrill and grated uncomfortably against his ears. "Master enjoys my work. I'm very loyal to him, you see."

On she went about things she could only have dreamed to have done, her fingers working tirelessly on his pale hair. The murdering of children she laughed over, and how parents would scream and cry for mercy. She told him of words she would say, and of torturing until blood seeped from her victim's mouths before these 'curses' were lifted.

Like a little girl telling a naughty tale, she giggled over her words as she voiced them. Now was coming a story of a cousin's demise, and she took particular pleasure in 'boy's pain when he watched him fall through some type of magical veil. This speech was earning them glances of annoyance and amusement from the adults gathered around the chamber, but none did more than snicker or sniff, no matter how Ryou wished that someone would deliver him from this woman's clutches.

Who were these people, and what type of cult could this be, if it would admit a woman as unbalanced as _this_?

"Take her away," Malik finally spoke up, and Ryou would have sagged in relief had not the woman still clutched his hair. The order went ignored, but Malik was never overlooked as a mere child for long. He didn't allow himself to be.

"I _said_," the Egyptian's voice rose harshly, "take her away."

The words were only for effect. Two men began to approach the couch mechanically, eyes devoid of life. They were beaten there by a man as hallowed and sunken as the shell of the woman playing with Ryou's hair.

"Come, Bella." He ordered, glaring at her darkly. Ryou felt a small wisp of pity for her, but it was quickly washed away in his stomach-churning memories of the horrid tales she was delighting in moments before.

The two men Malik held control over remained standing nearby, but the other boy was as focused on this new exchange as Ryou.

The woman, Bella, ignored him, laughing raucously at some private joke.

"Bellatrix!" The man snapped, not enjoying his being ignored. She looked up at him, a scowl twisting her ugly face.

"Why haven't you given me such lovely dolls, love?" Her demand was angry, and earned snickers from even those who had before responded to her with annoyance. Ryou desperately wanted to jerk free and escape, but didn't dare try for fear of angering her.

"I'll get you a pretty new doll from our next kill, Bella," he placated her, his expression giving lie to his pretence at caring.

Those words made Ryou's already weak stomach lurch. From our next kill, he'd heard the man say, like the mad woman's ravings were being given as fact. What was this place? What part of her words were truth, then, and what parts creations of a troubled mind? Everything now seemed the same.

Ryou was released and she took the man's arm with an elegant step taking her to his side.

"Then I forgive you." Bella simpered, and gave a laugh that produces shudders as he led her away.

Free will returned to the two men's eyes, and they looked about in puzzlement before scowling to themselves and moving themselves back to where they had been talking. Malik gave a mocking sigh.

"So much for my entertainment," he griped, and extracted his hand from between himself and his arm of the couch, drawing with it the Millennium Rod. "This is getting boring. I'll have to have a talk with Bakura later."

Trying to ignore the frowning glances being cast at them, and the curious, greedy looks directed at the golden jewellery being donned, and the Rod lying in his companion's hands, Ryou decided to strike up a conversation. Maybe it'd keep the scary people away for a while, and he _was_ curious.

"What can Bakura do to help?" It was an innocent question, so he couldn't see it annoying the Egyptian.

"He could hurry up and bring Rishid here," Malik answered irritably, tapping the Rod against his tightly clad leg.

Ryou did his best to summon a smile. No matter how used Malik was to having so many gazes flickering to him all the time, attention always made Ryou uncomfortable. "Then your brother's here? That'll be nice for you, to have him helping." He decided to leave off the 'again', since it might not be received well by his only known company.

Malik cast him a bland look. "Why would he be anywhere else?"

Smile wavering, Ryou gave a tiny little shrug. "I… don't know." He thought carefully before trying again. "At least you will have entertainment, since I'm sure you and your brother get along well."

This was responded to with an indifferent shift of the hand not holding the golden item. "When he comes, Bakura will let him look after you instead of us taking turns." This was followed by his giving Ryou a dark look. "Did you think he was the only one getting to have any fun?"

Averting his gaze and shaking his head, Ryou gave up on trying to talk. Instead, he let his thoughts wander, and settled back into the uncomfortable couch to wait for his darkness' return.

Severus' dark gaze followed the pallid muggle as Minerva McGonagall led him from the office.

"Why wasn't the muggle brought here with his son?" The Potions Master demanded, a vague suspicion building off of the doubt he'd caught lurking in the father's eyes.

Albus Dumbledore, stroking the golden head of his dear companion Fawks, answered, "I suggested to him that he come with Ryou when I first brought the invitation to him, but he hadn't been willing to leave his work." Severus suddenly found himself on the receiving end of the old man's keen gaze. "What are you thinking?"

Severus, however, was far less susceptible to the old man's sly digs. "An archaeologist. Does he work at one of those muggle museums?" He was ignoring those blue eyes assessing him, too intent on his own thoughts to bother about another's.

"No. He works digs in Egypt." Albus' calm words brought a faint frown to Severus' expression. Was that so?

"Mr. Ryou Bakura came from somewhere in Japan, didn't he?"

"Yes, Severus," Albus responded.

"The boy in Japan, the father in Egypt," Severus commented blandly. "Interesting."

In his given chamber, Eugene Bakura sank into a chair, dropping his suitcase onto the floor. Worried for Becca's son, exhausted from two sleepless nights work then rushing off to London, he doubted that he'd be able to handle anymore company civilly until he got some sleep in.

He didn't belong here any more than their son, but neither of them held any choice in the matter.

The chamber he'd been gifted with was lovely, furnished in reds and browns that for some reason reminded him of the desert's warmth. Still, it was a poor replacement, no matter how rich and comfortable with the wide fireplace that could throw heat in the winter, and Eugene couldn't help but yearn for the comforting sounds of the dig sites that he was accustomed to.

There, he could forget about Becca and the son he didn't know, concentrating instead on things that had been dead and gone for centuries. The secrets of these he could help uncover, and nothing living would mourn their discoveries.

Now, left on his own, he rested his head against the back of his chair, mentally going through the two men's words. Professor Snape's statement that his son knew a wizard was what bothered him the most, next to his being kidnapped, of course. When and how that could have come about he hadn't any idea, nor why the boy would scare his son.

It had been obvious, even to his sleep-muddled brain, that the other man had still been covering things up despite Albus Dumbledore's orders, but he was positive that the man hadn't been lying as well.

The questions that he had asked had been answered, gaining him tons of useless knowledge on what the assailant looked like, or on the assortment of jewellery donning neck, arms and ears, but not a bit clearer on how Ryou may be.

If you knew who his friends were, a condemning voice in his mind chastened, then you could be asking them about this Egyptian.

"This is madness," Eugene sighed aloud, standing and moving for the bed. He'd be useless until he got himself some rest. Then, maybe, he'd find _some_ way to help.

Severus Snape had waited impatiently for his next summons from the Dark Lord, but it hadn't come for another week. Summer with its heat was steadily nearing its end, and with it was passing opportunities to discover how Albus' nephew was fairing in Voldemort's lair.

Feeling naught but relief as the searing pain burned through his arm, Severus wasted no time in excusing himself from the staff meeting and hastening to the edges of Hogwarts' anti-apparation wards.

When he made it to the Riddle grounds, he stalked through the corridors with no concern for who he passed, heading straight for the office where the Dark Lord would be waiting.

"Have a seat, Severus." That snakelike voice bid, and sit he did, swallowing the urge to arch an eyebrow at Lucius Malfoy's continued presence. More and more, the man was becoming the Dark Lord's shadow.

The fire in the fireplace was burning down, leaving only blocks of char held together by some inner determination lying in a bed of glowing coals. The silence lay heavy a few moments more, the Lord's mind probing at the stone walls Lucius maintained over his thoughts, then it passed.

"Who is this boy that was placed in your care, Severus?" The Dark Lord asked the question that they'd been expecting, though Severus was sincerely surprised that the man hadn't discovered the true answer on his own.

"A distant relative, cousin or some such thing, to Alastor Mad-Eye Moody. Dumbledore ordered me to watch him while he had that washed-up Auror assist the Ministry in erecting the new base I've already mentioned."

"In Hogsmeade. Yes," The Dark Lord answered, giving Severus a moment's peace. He hadn't been as sure as Albus that this story would work. "And why didn't you mentioned this before?"

Maintaining the composure he had long perfected, Severus tilted his head in his own version of a shrug. "I didn't find it all that important, my Lord," He told him cynically. "Not even for his mother would Mad-Eye budge out of the noble light's line, and certainly not for a lesser relative."

Icy fingers of unease encircled Severus' heart as the Dark Lord spoke condescendingly. "Of course that's why."

Taking a great chance, Severus dared to ask his own question. "My Lord, what did you decide to do with he and the other boy?"

The sly smirk that twisted the Dark Lord's lips cast a foreboding shadow over Severus' soul. "They're here with me, Severus. That's why I sent for you, you see. I want you to take news back to that muggle-loving fool that this boy, whoever he is, as well as his little friend, shall remain in my custody. This power will _not_ be going back to Dumbledore."

"My Lord…?" Severus felt a flicker of unease. Lucius, who had remained standing at his master's shoulder, smirked at him.

"I'm well aware that he was sent here to stay with Albus Dumbledore, Severus," the Dark Lord taunted, and the unease within Severus increased. "Perhaps you should also tell him that your use as his spy is no longer so beneficial to their side? I fear that my trust in you is wavering."

Swallowing his desire to whip out his wand, Severus bowed forward. "I'm more your spy than his, as you know. My loyalty, my Lord, has never left you."

"Hasn't it," the Dark Lord responded dryly. "We shall see. For now, I want you only to go see that this ward of Dumbledore's is perfectly healthy, then I want you to return only when you can give me five feathers from that beast in the muggle-lover's office."

Disbelief flooding his mind, Severus couldn't find anything to say.

"I'm no longer so greatly in need of your skills that I'm willing to overlook your uncertain loyalty. Either do this for me, proving your continued loyalty, or stay locked in that school with that fool Dumbledore. You're dismissed."

If I do that last, Severus knew, standing and bowing before taking his leave, my name will be added to the top of his victims list, with all others who defected.

Ryou yawned again, curling into the same arm of the couch that he had despised hours before. He wished that his spirit would get back so that he could go to bed. There was no way that he'd sleep here in this room, surrounded by strangers and with only Malik to look out for him, even if he _could_ have slept there.

Another laugh, again from Bella, sliced through the chamber as she found amusement in another, younger, woman's words. It would be nice if he could just jump up and run away, leaving them all behind in this mansion of the dead. His spirit had his own body now, as well as the power of the Ring imbibed in its twin, the false Shadow Ring, and didn't need his host anymore. Maybe he'd even welcome the chance to be free of his useless light.

Only, Ryou didn't want to lose his other half. When and if his darkness gained mastery over Shadows, Ryou knew that his uselessness would be complete and that the spirit would dispose of him. When that day came, maybe he'd even regret staying with his darkness, but Ryou doubted it.

No matter how much his spirit had and would hurt him, he couldn't bare to leave his presence, his only constant in life.

Another yawn escaped. Ryou nuzzled into the rough material, staring across the room at where Malik sat perched on the back of a chair before a cluster of robed figures, eagerly questioning them on some strange trick that they'd performed on the fireplace to bring its blaze back to life.

The one who did it had taken a slim item out of his pocket, some type of stick, and pointed it at the hearth. This stick instantly shot out a intense beam of light which raised a fire roaring where once only a few fresh logs had been resting. It was strange, yes, and Ryou should probably be curious too, yes, but he was _exhausted_! Why wasn't his spirit back yet?

Malik looked so much younger when he got caught up in his curious moods. Idly, Ryou wondered if this was what endeared him to his brother, and made it possible for his sister to forgive all the death and pain the youngest in their small family gave birth to.

The glazing of one of the men's eyes caught Ryou's attention and he sighed into the couch, wondering if the snake-man was going to hear about the strange blanking his men were experiencing. The man had demanded for Malik to stop using his powers, but he'd probably have more like ordering the sky to turn green.

Getting the stick into his hand, Malik gave a snap to his wrist which was immediately followed by a yelping and scrambling as sparks flew and ignited on the gatherings' robes.

Ryou must have blinked after that, though, because the fire vanished in seconds without his seeing it be extinguish.

"Idiot child!" One of the men snapped, snatching the stick out of Malik's hand. The man's only blessing was that the Egyptian was more concerned with the burn now on his white shirt. The bracelets and bands along the boy's muscular arms were clinking madly as he ineffectively wiped at the black-brown mark.

The door opened, admitting another to the happy little party. Looking that way, Ryou found none other than a stony-faced Professor Snape standing there. Shaking off his weariness, Ryou sat up, shoving hair out of his face as he grasped for something to say and came up empty.

"Professor Snape…?"

Thin lips pressed together and the man turned away, closing the door behind him. Mystified, Ryou watched him go, wondering what _that _had been all about...

End Ch.7

All done! Eh, no, not the story! Just this chapter.

Hmmm… Now what to do… I know, answer your reviews!

_Responses To Reviewers:_

Antago: Grins Nope! I'm afraid that I have something else that's going to happen to the dolls. As for why he doesn't like to share, it's a little bit of both, but heavier towards the 'doesn't like to share' side.

Koneko-chan? I've never seen that name before for Ryou. What does Koneko mean? And thank you! )

The Inspector: Thank you!! Thank you!! It's now in the next scene! G And Ryou is soo adorable. I thought his wearing robes that were too big would make him just like a little doll! Wants to hug him and squeeze him and…is turning into that girl off of Tiny Tunes! Ack! Help!

I put in a special part in the 9th chapter with a certain character's POV. Hope it clears up some questions… and gives you lots more in their place! His Father is going to be a big character in this. He won't be a character that the plot resolves around, or even have much of an effect on it, but he'll still be important!

(I don't think? To be honest, though, my plot is still being edited constantly. I probably should've waited until I knew more than a general idea where I was going to post it, but oh well! Too late now!)

C.M Aeris Queen of Insanity: Of course! Winks Now how's this for a new piece?

Eden's Echo: Thanks!! Snape's finding that out will be a _long_ ways off, but he'll have lots of things bothering his poor mind before that ever happens! Hopefully you won't get bored waiting!

Ryou and Bakura's relationship is a difficult one. I'm doing my best to show that in what I'm writing, even if it's a bit mixed up sometimes. They're two halves of a whole, so there isn't anyone else for them, I'm just not sure there'll be more than hints and little scenes like the ones so far.

And I'm REALLY glad that you won't mind if they do end up together. I'd hate to lose your reading! (

Maruken: Aw, don't be paranoid! It'll all be okay! Grins I'm really excited to see that I have you so excited!

Ryou may be Bakura's pet, but he's got his own beliefs and will always react on them if he feels strongly enough about them. His little rebellions help make him so adorable! The sad part is, if there was a clash of wills, he'd give way to his spirit.


	8. In a World

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/N: And I'm starting _this_ one on the day that I posted ch.6! Whew! I hope that I can keep this up…

_NEW A/N: Ok. Another editing done 01/29/07. Go me! _

Chapter 8 In a World

Night had almost passed on into day by the time a thoroughly worn out Ryou finally felt a loosening in the lock his spirit had placed upon their link. Opening one brown eye, he watched the fuzzy doorway until it opened, admitting the dark spirit of the Millennium Ring and the large figure who followed, whose facial features were obstructed by the dark writing scarring his face.

Rishid, Ryou's mind supplied, remembering him from before. He let his eye close, content now that his darkness was near.

"Nice to see you finally decided to join us," Malik snapped. This would probably be directed at the spirit, not his brother. Rishid didn't seem able to anger his surrogate sibling.

"Patience, Malik, is something you would do well to learn."

Ryou made a face, wishing that they wouldn't just stand around talking. All he wanted to do now was sleep, he'd been waiting long enough.

'Sleep, then. Or quit complaining. It is nothing to me whether you are tired or not.'

Too sleepy to even bother with his usual apology, Ryou just curled a bit tighter to the couch arm, fighting a shiver from the chilling air. Nobody had been bothering with the fire in the last while and, though he didn't understand why, the summer heat never seemed to make it into this place.

"I'm sorry that we kept you waiting, Malik," Rishid said in that deep, comforting voice of his. Must be nice, having an older brother who cared about you.

Malik didn't answer his brother, accepting the older boy's words in that callous way of his, but went on. "Did you two find out anything useful about those barriers?"

Ryou winced as his dark gave his chilling laugh. "Only", the spirit told Malik, "that those of this world scream just as beautifully when in pain as those of any other."

No more dolls, please, no more dolls…

"You remember that he isn't going to help us until we help him gain this place, don't you?" The ancient spirit growled in response to Malik's words, and the next to come were lighter in tone. Rishid had probably rested a hand on Malik's shoulder to calm him. "No matter. With Rishid here, we'll both be able to work now."

A spark of indignation burned in the link. "I don't need any help," Ryou's spirit snarled. "Just because we are working together does not mean that I _need_ you."

"You'd do well to realize that-" Malik cut himself off, likely on the receiving end of a sharp snarl from the darkness and a frown from his brother. "I'm going to bed. Come, Rishid."

Malik and his shadow exited, leaving only Ryou, his darkness, and the few others who were pointedly ignoring them. "Well?" The spirit growled, still irritable thanks to Malik.

For all of his wishes for bed, Ryou hadn't even considered having to stand up. Now that he had to, he wondered if it was really worth it. Still, his spirit would likely get angrier if he kept him waiting.

"M'coming," Ryou slurred, getting to his feet and tripping over the dragging robe. Catching himself against the couch, he scowled sleepily, glaring down at the encumbering material. He hated that couch.

Tired, tired, tired. And cold. Why wasn't he moving? Remembering that he actually had to move in order to, well, _move_, took a minute for Ryou, and by that time his spirit, thoroughly annoyed, seized him by the wrist, dragging his stumbling light out of the chamber and down the hallway.

It was hardly any time before Ryou found himself being dumped onto their shared bed. Only seconds following this and he was fast asleep.

* * *

Eugene Bakura's brow furrowed as he tried to take in what he was seeing. Rising from bed just before dawn, he'd tripped over one of the two packs of Ryou's that had been brought to him yesterday. Curiosity had always been a vice of his, and the clunk of what sounded to be wood against wood had stirred this in him. So, against his own sense of morale, he'd lit a lamp and opened the pack to discover what had caused this clunking sound. What he was seeing were… dolls… a lot of dolls…vaguely disturbing dolls… 

No, not vaguely disturbing dolls. These were _exceedingly_ disturbing dolls. As if their creator had captured them within the throes of terror and suffering, each face depicted its own style of torment.

Eugene reached down to draw one out, but found his hand hesitating before making contact with the wooden objects. They're just dolls, he tried to rationalize, urging himself to not be such a coward, but they… he'd never seen anything like them before, and they terrified him.

Just dolls. He was being foolish. Why, though, did his son have so many of them, and ones depicting such pain?

Once, returning from a dig in Egypt for a few days, he remembered seeing a deck of strange cards in the apartment he'd been paying for and going through them. The concern he'd felt and cast away then, at finding what those held for images, returned tenfold.

A fixation on images of despair and anguish? What could have caused this?

Years alone. This answer cut into his heart, stealing the breath out of his lungs.

"Becca…" Staring down at the dolls gathered together in this bag, their too-real hair entwined over wooden bodies, Eugene couldn't bring himself to move. "Becca, what have I done…"

* * *

"I haven't a clue what brought this on, Albus," Severus admitted. "Nor do I know why he wants those feathers." 

Albus Dumbledore gave a soft exhalation and dropped his hand from stroking Fawks' golden plumage, meeting Severus' gaze gravely. "As much as this pains me, Severus, I must call this to an end. Without his trust, you make no spy, and I do not feel it wise to either take such greater risk with your already endangered life or take chances with such powerful magic as Fawks' feathers would be necessary for."

As creatures derived purely from magic, a single feather from their plumage, if used properly, could contain the magical strength of a strong wizard. Five of them…

"What of your nephew?" Severus demanded this despite his misgivings. Having to leave the boy there, again, made him loathe to admit defeat in this area.

"You saw him, my boy, and you tell me that he's fine," Albus sighed. Severus could see his struggle to maintain the soothing calm he was often identified with. "We'll have to take this small comfort and hold to it until something more can be done. Tom is not the most patient of men, Severus, and he'll soon let us know of his plans."

Severus thought back to the small figure curled up on a couch, swamped in long robes that could've belonged to someone twice his size, and felt a cool flame of anger creep through his soul. That child should have been preparing for Hogwarts this coming week, worrying over what classes he'd discover in this new world, or curious concerning the strange children his age that he'd be meeting. The reality of it was wrong.

Severus didn't particularly like children, but he was far from heartless, and he had always felt a strong desire to prepare those little demons for what they would be experiencing once they stepped outside the confining walls of childhood. With one once placed in his care so clearly unprepared to face a world no one, adult or child, should have to be subjected to, now thrust into its centre, it mad him furious to have to stand aside and let the situation work itself into a conclusion.

"Albus, if we leave things how they are he could be killed," he argued, but already knew that this would be shot down. The aged Headmaster knew as well as he the dangers that the child was in, but, as always, Albus was right in that there was naught that they could do.

"We have to hope, Severus. It's all that we can do," the man said, and let his weary gaze turn to Fawks. "Tell me, friend, some magic that Phoenix feathers are said to be used in?"

The bird let out a musical trill, hopping down off of his golden perch and onto the desk to nudge Albus' hand with its head. The Headmaster complied, once more stroking the fiery feathers.

Severus thought this question over carefully. Phoenix feathers were very rare, no matter that the whole of the Wizarding World knew that the Headmaster of Hogwarts' familiar of sorts was one. As a child he'd heard foolish stories from his mother about spells containing the use of several for finding out if lost family members had died or not, or invoking spirits to dispel curses cast onto them by enemies.

The drawback was that these were, as he'd known then, foolish stories. His mother had loved such things, especially the other stories that she'd shared, where death and blood were woven into rituals to torture and sicken enemies from a distance. Those, of course, had nothing to do with this topic, and he'd do well to move his thoughts back to a more beneficial area.

"Mostly for divining answers or undoing another's magic, I think," Severus finally offered, lips pursed in thought. "There was a potion I read once, where the feathers were boiled in the brewer's blood for a month. After that they were supposed to hold the ability to keep that one from sickness so long as they remained on their person." He gave a shake of his head. "None of these hold anything that the Dark Lord could be interested in."

"Phoenix feathers", Albus supplied, "are not so common that their uses can be documented." He gave a wry chuckle when Fawks poked his hand indignantly, irritated over being neglected. "These beautiful creatures just do not pass out feathers on whims. I'd dare to believe that those two feathers Fawks had given years ago were the first freely given in centuries. And," he gave Severus a thoughtful look, as if calculating something in his mind, "in order for them to be of use, they _must_ be given freely."

So, even if Severus were to have performed this task for the Dark Lord, the man would still have known him to be a traitor. Only Albus would have been able to assist in getting such things from his loyal friend.

Still, this question remained: what did the Dark Lord want with five Phoenix feathers?

* * *

Ryou was being allowed out more often now that Rishid had arrived, he just couldn't stray far from the spirit or Egyptians. Ryou didn't really like to wander in the halls, since he'd have to walk past all of the others in those cloaks that he was becoming accustomed to, so he usually just stayed in his chamber or hastened to the conference room and sat on that burgundy couch.

That was where a lot of people went, but at least he was left alone there, the others ignoring his presence as if he were beneath their notice. Well, that was fine by him. As long as they thought him under them then they wouldn't try and talk to him, and he wouldn't have to stop leaving his chambers again.

His spirit didn't pay him much mind when they were both in the room, nor did Malik. Marik, well, he usually pat him on the head before ignoring him. Rishid was the only one who came to keep him company. The elder Egyptian didn't talk, just sat and watched the room with him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Soon, Ryou found himself enjoying the steady man's company, and looking forward to his unexpected appearances.

His life there was not so bad. Each day when he awoke he was given clothing identical or nearly so to the ones he'd been given the first time, and was allowed to take his time cleaning himself up. Socks still never came with them, and he accepted this with a bit of reluctant acceptance, mostly because he bet that complaining would result in him receiving _only_ a robe to wear, and a lot less freedom than he was getting.

He'd developed a bit of a sniffle over the past few days. Ryou blamed it on his bare feet and the cold floor.

He was scrunching up his nose, trying to squeeze the itch out of it without anymore rubbing, when Rishid stood up, the lifting of his weight letting the couch settle higher. It took a minute for Ryou to figure out what the man's look meant and stand, too, following him over to where Malik and his darkness stood.

There wasn't long to wait before Ryou's curiosity over why Rishid wanted him to move was laid to rest. The snake-man strode in with Lucius two steps behind, a dark fire burning in crimson eyes. Malik must have ordered him brought over for the Ring Spirit, for, no matter how relaxed they were becoming to these strangers' presence, they still refused to leave him alone in the same chamber as the serpentine Lord of this cult.

A lot of that probably had to do with the way Lucius still glared at him every time the man saw him.

"Lestrange!" It was the first word out of the snake-man's mouth. The male Lestrange came forward out of the gathering crowd come to attention, statuesque as ever. "Tell me what you did wrong."

Had this demand been directed at him, Ryou was sure that he'd be a little ball quivering at that terrifying man's feet, but there was no change in Bella's husband's face, not even the clenching of a muscle in his jaw. The others were silent, watching with cruel interest.

"I was told to locate the Fitzinnis and remain with them, keeping them alive and letting the others handle those at this gathering."

"Exactly," Voldemort snapped, brandishing a long stick like Ryou had seen others carrying. "And what did you do?"

"I killed them both."

Watching this exchange with wide eyes, Ryou edged back closer to his companions and keepers, eyes rooted to the scene. The snake-man was blazing with fury, every word tearing through the sudden wariness hollowing this chamber.

"Have you _any_ idea how far this will put us behind? I needed them alive! _Crucio!_"

Something bright came from the stick the man flicked, and down Lestrange went. Horror welled up inside of Ryou as he watched the man's body spasm in pain, limbs flailing wide upon the same current as the screams. Eyes rolled back in their sockets, their whites expanding.

His own scream choked him and he stumbled farther backwards, striking into his dark's chest. The scene and the man's screaming never stopped, nor did the sneering smirk of contentment he could see on the Serpentine man's face as he watched his victim suffer. Over his shoulder, the spirit looked on with disturbing fascination.

Ryou trembled violently, feeling as if he were about to collapse beneath the waves of torment being projected by Lestrange. An arm, locking around his stomach, kept him upon his feet.

What if the man was burning from the inside, with flames like what had used on the fireplace? Why did no one try and _stop_ it! Bella's shrill laughter resounded with her husband's screams, then went on alone, the body growing still. Voldemort was lowering his stick.

He was dead. Just like that, with a word and a movement of something so small, one of the snake-man's worshiper's lives had been reduce to ashes.

'He's not dead, idiot.'

Ryou didn't acknowledge those words, continuing to quake against the spirit's body. They even killed each other…

They really did kill, not just talk of it like he'd secretly hoped.

"Someone take him away," the snake-man's voice was disturbingly indifferent. Turning, he walked back out. "Next time, follow orders."

Ryou wished again that he could go back to Domino, or to Professor Snape, or to anywhere away from this horrible place. What power did those sticks have that create fire to burn both wood and life away? How could this monster not care that someone loyal to him had just died?

The body shuddered against the floor and Ryou felt a bare taste of relief. He _was_ alive… Lestrange had been in so much pain, how he could survive Ryou didn't know, but he _was_ alive.

"Does it not bother you", his spirit asked, "that this man has killed tonight, when he was only supposed to keep those two victims alive?"

Ryou did care… No, he didn't care, he just didn't want to see anyone die. He never wanted to see his friends get swallowed by the Realm of Shadows, or have dolls brought home to him whenever his spirit wandered, either, but those happened.

Why did it happen? Was it because of something he did?

_How_ _did the snake-man use a stick of fire to cause pain and not kill?_

It was getting hard to breathe. Ryou started gasping for breath and was jerked off of his feet into tight arms, carried out of the sweltering chamber and into the hallway. Cold needles stabbed his neck and throat, bringing him to wince and clutch tighter to his spirit-when had he began clinging?-as they passed deeper into the darkness.

The spirit entered their chambers. Ryou was thrown onto the bed and curled into himself, still struggling to breathe despite the blessed change in atmosphere. The bed beneath him bent, his spirit seating himself alongside of him, and Ryou shifted closer to this source of comfort, burying his head into the darkness' lap.

Exasperation, stemming from the Ring Spirit, hung heavy between them, but Ryou felt a gentle touch against the back of his head. It eased the shivering of his body, freeing his mind from the haunting visions he'd been unable to force away from himself.

"Weakling," the spirit chastised condescendingly. "Just breathe. Have I not done worse?"

Ryou knew that it was true. He curled in closer, dreading that his spirit would leave him here alone with this confusion and terror.

Questions that he couldn't ask boiled inside of him, of where they were, what they were doing, of what had happened such a short time ago.

His darkness didn't leave. Instead, he continued stroking Ryou's hair, running coarse fingers through the fluffy locks in unaccustomed gentleness. The tightening in Ryou's chest loosened as he concentrated on the ticklish sensation this brought against his scalp, not at all like Marik's pats or Bella's braiding of his hair.

Was this safety, he wondered sleepily, giving a tiny shudder as he forced away the ringing screams threatening to return to his mind's ear. With the one who scared him most cradling him in this comfort, surely the fears now given birth could be kept at bay.

End Ch.8

I know I probably missed something that should've been fixed, but I've had this done long enough. Out it goes! Just share with me your complaints and I'll do my best to fix it up! )

It might take me a full week to get the next part out. I'm having trouble getting it past 2200 words. ((It's driving me crazy!))

I'm also working on their entrance into Hogwarts. Cross your fingers for me, please? This chapter's a bit short but it's as full as I could get it! The next scene isn't done yet, I don't want it cut in half, so this'll be the end!

_Responses To Reviewers:_

Antago: Grins First to review again! Thanks for telling me what Koneko meant, it's a cute word. I've heard of Neko before, but never it!

Severus is going to be pretty important to the poor little kitten, but that all comes later. I'm trying to keep him In Character as best I can, so the whole getting-to-know-each other thing will probably take a bit of time. And see what happened to the dolls? Evil Grins I've been wanting to get that scene out there for a while! I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Yeah, Eugene has a reality and personality problem. Becca's son, Becca's world, Becca's, Becca's, Becca's…. I'm aware that I gave the poor fellow some issues. Still, I'm pretty pleased with him! I'm glad that I'm getting a reaction to him! Personally, I don't really hate him, I just pity him XD

Bellatrix is the woman who Harry blamed for killing Sirius. She did do it, I suppose, but I blame the veil more than her. (What? Whenever possible, blame the inanimate object! You make less enemies that way. "No, Your Honour, the man in the blue shirt didn't do it. It was the knife with the green handle!") Is she Narcissa's sister? I don't remember, just that she's related to Sirius…

The Inspector: Aw, shucks! I only did my best! Snickers Yeah, took him long enough, too, huh? And I really hope that you like the part at the end! It's all thanks to you!

I adore Severus too much to kill him! It'd be horrible, just like losing Sirius all over again. (I'll let one of the big guys (Sirius) step out of my plot but this one is staying!)

Bella disturbed me. I found her _way_ too giddy in book 5! And Rishid is just so big and Huggleable!

As for Malik getting lots of magic, well, hehehe… I love Malik/Marik. They're fun! Severus doesn't find out about Bakura for a while, and poor Ryou's father is pretty essed up right now. And he knows that he messed up!

Eden's Echo: Thank you!! G

Oh, no no no! Poor Voldemort knows that they can do some great tricks, like Malik's taking control of people and something of Bakura's skills, but he's pretty much in the dark about exactly what he's signed on with.

And Eugene… Poor Eugene… I really feel bad for him, he's got a long way to go before he'll ever understand Ryou. Still, it's all his fault that he doesn't know anything. He had his chances.

Harry _is_ a bit of a brat, huh? I think so too! Still, I adore him. He's going to be brought into it, but his part isn't going to be too great for a while. You'll have to wait and see who Ryou's friends are, if he gets any! Winks

Ryou still wasn't sure about the magic thing but it all comes out in the next part! I hope that the scene where Ryou gets told turns out okay but right now it's pretty rough.

C. M Aeris Queen of Insanity: Yay! Thank you! I hope that this one is interesting and not too confusing either! XD

seto/ryou4ever: Aw! Thanks! Hugs! I'm glad that you still like it, and especially glad that I caught this review before I posted this chapter! (I'm just giving a last, quick run through it before throwing it up!) I really hope that you keep reading!

If you ever need anything explained, just ask and I'll gladly try and help! )

Thanks again everyone!

Please, Pleeeeease Review Þ


	9. Of Paper Walls

****

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

__

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/N: Chapter 9! I'm amazed that I got this finished. The next will probably be out by next Saturday.

****

Chapter 9 ~ Of Paper Walls

Ryou awoke the next day to an empty bed. Every other morning his spirit had roused him and ordered him to breakfast, so he wasn't at all expecting to find upon opening his eyes that he was all alone.

Memory of the evening before flashing through Ryou's mind sent a flutter of worry through him, dispelling the remaining traces of last night's security. Why had his spirit left already, and without telling him? His darkness didn't always tell him when he'd be gone, but he'd never left him there in the morning. Had something gone wrong? 

Were he and Malik out, leaving Ryou in Rishid's care?

Feeling sure that he didn't want to know the answers to this, Ryou curled back up into his quilts and let the warmth of the sunny morning ease the chill in his heart and the dull ache in his head. His spirit was fine, and he was foolish to be worried about him. Now that he had the chance to sleep in, why not take it?

And in doing this remain _far_ from the cult and its terrifying inventions of pain. His spirit could drag him out of bed when he got back if it was a must…

But it was a pointless fight, for every time he closed his eyes he saw Lestrange falling to the floor, surrounded by glittering eyes beneath the gaze of burning crimson. What it had been he wasn't sure, likely some type of electrical current, but what generated it, or how it worked, he didn't know. All he was certain of was that he didn't want to go near them alone.

A knocking on his door roused Ryou from his thoughts. Crawling out from beneath the heavy blankets, he grit his teeth and walked over to the door, dreading each step that took him closer. Please be Rishid, he prayed. The prayer went unheeded.

"My Lord wants you to go to him right away!" The portly man with the silver glove told him as soon as the door was opened, beady little eyes peering past him and into the chamber snoopily. Fighting the drive to fling the door closed between them, Ryou made a half-heated attempt at smoothing his hair with one hand, nodding. 

Down the hall he was led, and into the same study where he'd first met Lucius. The snake-man was there alone, seated in the high-backed chair with the elegant snake coiled alongside it. This time his cane-wielding shadow was nowhere in sight

He was bid to sit and did, nervously accepting the glass of water that the snake-man had the portly servant bring to him. Just as he began to withdraw his hand now holding the drink, Ryou caught a closer look at the man's left hand and he recoiled, startled by its _not_ being in a glove.

The glass shattered against the floor, spraying water and glass everywhere. 

Voldemort took up his wand and Ryou whimpered, hunching in upon himself to make as small a target as possible-_reparo! _The pieces of glass flowed over the floor and fitted themselves together.

"Relax," the serpent-man soothed. "Magic isn't all painful, and I have no reason to harm you." He glanced at the chubby man attending them, who scurried forward to collect and refill the glass.

"It was a curious thing last night, how you reacted," the man continued. "Tell me this: was it my curse that upset you, or the magic itself?"

Startled, Ryou looked from the man to his stick and back again. "Magic?" He asked, thinking of the magicians he'd seen on television with their magic wands. "You man that you can do _magic_ with that stick? It's a _wand_?"

"And some without," the snake-man responded. Ryou recalled his discomfort when Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him. "Do you know what a muggle is?"

"Mu-mugg-Mug-gle?" Sounding out the awkward word, Ryou endeavoured to place it. Mug could mean face or stealing from someone. A muggle, well, he didn't know. For some reason, the word burgle kept popping into his head.

"Is it something like burgling? Or a burglar? Only it's done in front of the victim?" Was that what this cult actually was, just an insane group of petty thieves (it would account for the state of this mansion, even if they were all well fed) led by a dangerous magician?

Crimson and brown eyes blinked at him in sync. This lack of plausible reaction didn't bode well for his guess, and Ryou really doubted that they were pleased.

Summoning a very fake smile, since he didn't want to anger this dangerous man-creature any more than he may already have, Ryou stood and started backing away. Why, why couldn't he ever have a simple conversation?

"I, uh, think I should go," he managed, holding his hands in plain sight.

The snake-man moved his stick-_wand_, muttering, and, as Ryou ducked, its beam struck the wooden door and triggered the lock. Feeling no pain, Ryou hazarded a glance in the men's direction.

Voldemort flicked his wand towards Ryou's abandoned chair. "Sit back down and tell me how you know Albus Dumbledore."

Ryou inched his way over to the chair and forced himself to sit, wrapping his arms about his chest protectively. Albus Dumbledore, that was the name of his father's friend! Had the man gone to the authorities over his disappearance, he wondered.

"He's a friend of Father's," Ryou told the snake-man uncomfortably. Pressing his thoughts against his link with his spirit, he found its block impenetrable and heaved a mental sigh. Never there when he needed him.

Was the man's going to the police a good thing…?

"And your father is?"

Questions like this made little sense to him. His father's friend must have gone to the police, why else would this man be asking all of these questions?

"Eugene Bakura, sir," he answered softly, not wanting to give away any more than that. Lots of people made the mistake in thinking that archaeology brought in a fortune, and, if they weren't above theft, they might try and ransom him. 

Wait. Why would that be a bad thing?

"He's an archaeologist who works digs in Egypt."

"I see," the serpentine lord said, still holding the wand. "And how does an Archaeologist know Albus Dumbledore?"

Ryou's mind blanked. How was _he_ supposed to know that, he hadn't even heard the man's name before last week! "Maybe they used to work together?" His suggestion was voiced politely. He now wondered what his father's friend did to make this snake-man think him so different from his father.

"Doubtful." Ryou had the distinct impression that he was again annoying this terrifying person. 

"Do you know him, sir? Mr. Dumbledore, I mean." There wasn't any possibility of the snake-,am knowing his father. Ryou had the distinct impression that, had his father known this creature existed, he'd never let his son anywhere remotely close to Europe, let alone live there.

Oh dear. Bad, bad question. The crimson-eyed man now looked ready to bite his head off. Or eat him alive, wasn't that what snakes did to their victims? "I've had the displeasure of meeting him." 

"Ah…" Ryou sank deeper into his chair, clenching his fists into the side of his robe in an attempt to keep from fidgeting. "Sorry…"

"Tell me your connection to Bakura."

Hadn't his spirit or the Ishtars already told him what he would want to know? There wasn't anything Ryou could say to this, he wasn't allowed to answer these kinds of questions, but what would the snake-men do to him if he said that he couldn't answer?

"You should ask Bakura, really," he tried to put the man off, insides twisting uneasily.

"And why not you?" The serpentine voice sent needles down his back.

"I'm not supposed to talk about these things…" He trailed off, his nails digging into his shins through the thin material.

The master of the mansion kept him there a while longer, but when it became apparent to an irate Voldemort that no more could be gotten from him, Ryou was sent back to his room. Climbing back onto his bed and cringing internally, Ryou felt grateful for once how ominous a presence his darkness had. Otherwise, he surely would have felt this magic for himself.

Magic… alike but not alike to the ring encircling his throat… Why was it so hard to imagine, when he himself had so personal an involvement in the workings of magic he already knew to exist upon this world? Magic wasn't such a thing of the past as he'd come to believe, but a presence still among them…

This terrifying thought made Ryou's already achy head throb. Could anyone access this power, or only a select few? Ryou fervently hoped that the answer was few, _very_ few…

*~~~*

Bakura sneered at the shivering man huddled at his feet, watching as the blood dripped through his fingers onto the carpeted floor of the archaic library. "That's it," he crooned. "Bleed for me."

"P-please… I-I don't k-know…" The porcine man simpered, clutching his wound more tightly. "I-I don't know…"

"And what do you not know?" Bakura asked, crouching.

"T-the scroll you-" The man broke out in a scream, the spirit's hand squeezing the man's overtop of the wounded stomach.

"Too bad," Bakura taunted, continuing with the pressure until the historian passed out. Then he stood, moving his bloody fingers away from the man's dripping ones.

"Pitiful." And a waste of time. He'd let him bleed to death.

Bakura stalked down the hall, finding Malik wiping blood from his Rod onto a dead woman's teal robes. 

"Nothing," Bakura snapped, crossing his arms impatiently. This _Voldemort_ Malik insisted that they needed seemed to be sending them down one blank corridor after another. He was sorely tempted to call this alliance to an end.

All that kept him from doing just that was the knowledge that, if he learned what he could of this new magic, and had this serpent lord behind him, that Pharaoh's puzzle would soon be in his grasp. Then the others would only take a matter of time, and the ultimate power could be gained.

Amusing, really, that a tomb keeper would lead him to the tomb robber's ultimate marauding in the Pharaohs tombs-his using them to gain the power of Shadow.

Malik stood, his violet eyes gleaming from the torches. "She knew nothing as well."

Bakura scowled at the corpse between them, a sneer pulling on his lips. "I'll get rid of them." And he did, giving in to the coils of shadow magic strung beneath his fingertips and calling them out to swallow the empty vessels. 

"No toys for kitten?" Malik enquired mockingly, retracting the blade of the Millennium Rod. Bakura ignored him, leading the way from the archives.

Out of the ten mortals who had been keeping the archived scrolls dictating the major actions of the Wizarding World, none had known anything about this scroll Voldemort had them looking for.

Appep. A twisted grin pulled at the ancient spirit's lips as he remembered his kitten's sleepy thoughts upon first seeing this serpent lord they were using. 

*~~~*

Albus Dumbledore sighed to himself, setting aside the Daily Prophet. Ten more wizards and witches had been declared missing in the past two days, and eight others, mostly muggle-born or those married to one, had been found dead in the same length of time with the Dark Mark glowing over their homes. 

The Wizarding World's calm was crumbling around them, and no one, he least of all, knew how to save it. 

What bothered him most about these last disappearances was that they had all worked in the same building, Borrs and Nogt's Library of Archives. Tom was searching for something, that much was apparent, but what could he want that might be listed in the old archives? It had to be old, for members of the Ministry's Department of History were turning up missing, also. 

Albus wished that he could know exactly when their disappearing began, but the Ministry had been so overrun that the lesser branch's misplaced workers' absence had gone unnoticed until the Minister had sent for a record on the old Gorison's place, concerning who might be in possession of it now.

Cornelius was trying to pass the disappearances off as mere coincidence, saying that they all could have been taken in a single attack and offering condolences to what families the wizards and witches had (few, and mostly far apart). Albus knew better. It would be folly to think that Tom would attack such a place without reason, especially considering that he didn't brand this work of his, which wasn't like him at all. Something had to be afoot.

History, archives, _what_ could he be seeking?

The arrival he'd been awaiting rapped on the office door. He bid them enter, and Becca's husband, whom he'd been expecting, came in and accepted a seat before the desk.

He appeared washed out, Albus noted, but how could he not when his only remaining family could be dead or dying, with him unable to do anything about it. Silvering brown hair that had been mussed and uncared for on the man's arrival was now neatly combed, lean face once sporting stubble from long days of work now clean-shaven, yet still the haggard look would not go away.

After exchanging pleasantries, Albus got down to business.

"Mr. Bakura, as you know, school will be begin in two days time. Although we know that your son is alive, we are no clearer on how to free him." Listening, Eugene clearly wondered where the Headmaster was going with this. "We already have a new professor for Muggle-Studies," Albus continued, "who will be arriving tonight, but she made a rather interesting proposal, which I'm sure you will be pleased with. Would you be willing to assist her in teaching? I assure you that you will be well-paid."

Albus watched carefully as doubt clouded the man's face. "My work is in Egypt, sir." These words had been expected.

"Then you're planning to leave before Ryou is safe?" 

Nervous beneath the stab of those blue eyes, Eugene Bakura shook his head. "No, of course not. I have to be sure he's safe before I go back."

"Then accept this position. It will be best for you to have something to occupy your time, as I'm afraid you'll have all too much of it. Egypt has waited all these many years, my boy, and all of its secrets will be waiting for you when you wish to return." Your son, he refrained from adding, will not be.

Eugene had no right to refuse this, for Becca's uncle was allowing him to stay here, at a school for wizardry, despite his lack of magic. Decency made him nod.

"I accept, then, and thank you, but I have little experience with children."

This warning was received with a smile from Albus, the faded twinkle showing life. "Oh you'll learn, Eugene." He winked. "If you'll permit an old man his familiarity. And, as one of my staff, I insist on being called Albus by you. No more sir or Professor."

Eugene couldn't help but smile in return, and Albus felt his spirit lighten. Hope would always exist.

"It would be an honour, Albus."

*~~~*

As any sane fifteen-year-old, Ryou was terrified by this place and its inhabitants.

Ever since his glimpse into Lucius' future, the man had either glared or sneered at him whenever their paths crossed. Lucius had chosen to ignore the warning offered him, instead taking Ryou's words as a personal insult. Even if the grey-eyed man wasn't as frightening as Ryou's darkness or the snake-man, he was intimidating enough to keep Ryou hidden away whenever his spirit or the Ishtars were wandering other parts of the mansion grounds.

Ryou didn't much care if hiding made him a coward. He already knew that he was one. Being alive, holding partial command of his own actions, both of these things proved that. Were he brave like Yugi, who wasn't even afraid to go so far as to stand against the Pharaoh when he thought him wrong, Ryou would _still_ be locked away within the recesses of the other place, tucked up snug within his soul room.

He'd stood up against his spirit once. Lets repeat that: _once_.

A squeak from beneath the bed Ryou was crouching next to startled the snuffy boy into jumping, knocking over the side table when he rammed his head into it. Recognizing the sound as a rodent's, he scrambled backwards until his back struck the wall and he bumped his head again.

Yes, he'd been hiding behind the bed, keeping it between him and the only entrance to this room besides the window. It was uncomfortable there, too.

Rubbing the back of his head, Ryou narrowed his chocolaty orbs at the dark void beneath the large bed where the squeaking had come from. Of course. Why hadn't he guessed that rodents lived here, he wondered sarcastically. The old house was practically crumbling around them. It was perfect for rats and mice, dusty, dirty, a great rodent haven.

And if one of them bit him, what could he do besides get sick and make his spirit angry? Ryou doubted that he'd be able to convince his other that he needed to see a doctor for a little bite, and, with his luck, there probably wouldn't even be a doctor in that town at the foot of that overgrown hill.

The last thing he needed was to get sicker and make Bakura angry. Ryou didn't want to be sick, and he _definitely_ didn't want the spirit any more disgusted with him than he already was.

A wave of relief rushed through Ryou when he felt the block in their link ease and then vanish, freeing the amusement of his spirit through to him. Irritation lay thick beneath this emotion, but even a flicker of pleasant emotions was a vast improvement in Ryou's dark.

'Bakura, there's a rat in here!' He sent this to his other as swiftly as he could, praying that the darkness would find it fitting to rescue his 'pet' instead of leaving him to its mercy. It might not be a rat, of course, but would _that_ really make any difference? If it was hungry, as anything in this house besides its inhabitants was sure to be, it'd likely welcome a scrawny teen trapped in its lair.

The annoyance Ryou could feel shifted before his spirit subdued the link, leaving it just strong enough to pick up on the spirit's presence. Taking this as a sign that he'd be left to his own devices for survival, Ryou continued to glare into the shadows beneath his bed until the turning of the doorknob alerted him to another's entrance. 

Leaping to his feet, Ryou leapt up onto, then off of, the bed, racing through the opening door to duck behind his darkness. "Please, Yami-sama, I don't want it killed, just get rid of it!" 

A rough hand shoved Ryou out from behind the insensitive spirit and back through the door. "The rat's gone, little fool. Sit down and tell me what you thought you were doing, talking to this man in my absence!"

Ryou blinked and backed over to the bed, the rodent forgotten. Sitting, he pulled his knees against his chest. "I was told to go see him." 

This was a pitiful excuse. The darkness obviously agreed. "And why did Rishid not accompany you?"

Cringing internally, Ryou answered, "The man took me directly from this room to see him. I.. Didn't think about looking for anyone to come with me."

The ancient one took a step nearer, amber eyes burning. "You, my kitten, _never_ think. Do you believe that my rules mean nothing? Have I not done enough to show you it is wise to listen to your master?"

The snarl in his tone echoed with threats that needn't be voiced. Ryou knew all too well what could be done to him.

"You have, please, you have," he whimpered fearfully, digging his face into his knees. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have gone without Rishid, I know, I won't do it again."

Don't look him in the eye when he's mad, don't stand up and tell him that it was an honest mistake, just drop as low as you can get, curl up, and wait for it to blow over. He'd be right, anyway. Ryou should've known better than to go and talk to the serpent-man by himself. The man was dangerous, especially since the Spirit of the Millennium Ring and the holder of the Millennium Rod were willing to include him in their plans without wresting control from him.

Harsh silence stretched over the chamber, painfully loud, before the spirit demanded for him to tell what he'd told the Serpent Lord. Ryou did, inching his face from the shelter of his knees so that his voice could he heard more clearly. He wanted to add in questions, ask what the wizard wanted of them, or how the powers the man held could benefit the Egyptians, but the chances of further angering the other were too great.

So he told only what he'd been asked, adding no stress to the part where he refused to tell the snake-man what the connection between he and Bakura was. This, at least, earned a light pat to his head when the other crossed the chamber.

"Enough."

Ryou waited, seeing that no more needed to be said on this. The spirit passed him, moving to the dirty window overlooking the grounds and the night sky. "You know, then, that these wizards are dangerous?"

Wizards… More than one, then…

"Yes, more than one. _All_ of them are magical, my little fool. You will have nothing to do with them. Rishid will watch you, Malik or Marik will watch you, and I will not hear of you speaking with any of them again."

The warning lying between them needed no answer. With the framework of his normal life thoroughly shaken, Ryou wouldn't dare to anger his other any more. 

Wizards… Magic… Not concentrated within ancient objects of evil and power, but free as the air flowing over them. There was no escaping it, ever. No matter where he went, power would encircle them, bidding his spirit to seek it out and court it.

Ryou rarely allowed himself to cry so he didn't now, merely sat with head bowed, as he did so often, and let his spirit dream his dreams in peace.

~~ End Ch.9 ~~

I'm completely amazed that I got this out tonight! I just started a new job, have a ton of_ evil, evil_ training classes to go through, and more stuff to learn than I think I got stuck into me head in grade 12!

Whoa, if I wasn't so lazy I'd fix 'me'… Ah! Italics is attacking!

Anyway, on a more serious note, not only have I updated but this chapter is big! Woohoo! Now I only have to worry about the next chapter… which is still at 1683 words. Oy…

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Responses To Reviewers: 

Antago: Oo! Oo! Really?! *Is dancing around, whooping and grinning* I have what I _always wanted_! A rabid fan-girl! Wooohooo!! *Winks* Well, I'll have a new chapter for you next week, never you fear! If I have to force myself to sit at the comp when I get home, I will! 

Turns out that Bellatrix is Narcissa's sister…Weird, eh? And yeah, it was Ryou's deck. What I think is sad is that Ryou's father didn't question his son about the cards when he saw them…

Thanks for staying with me! I hope that this chapter is okay!

Eden's Echo: Then you'll like that, next chapter… *Blanks* Um. . . There's a nice Hogwarts scene? I think… Well, it's bland but I enjoyed writing it!

Eh, maybe his reaction was extreme, but it wasn't really empathy. More like, _there's a giant snake torturing a man about fife feet away from me!_ I sorta gave him a panic attack…*Sheepish grins* Well! _I'd_ sure have one in that situation, so why not the poor little bugger I'm writing about? =Þ

*G* Thanks for reassuring me about my chapter not being too rough. Someday I think I'll go through and do some cleaning, but right now I barely have time to write. Can't wait to hear from you again!

The Inspector: Poor you. You have officially become the one who I'll be running to when I get stuck! I wanted to write an e-mail when I got the review but, honestly, I couldn't think of a thing to say! (And it isn't stupid, it's cute! I wish Dad could make e-mails for me and be able to use a comp… wait… that would mean I'd have someone else to fight for the comp… n/m!) I'm pretty much running on empty these days… How do you write and go to school?! I can barely handle writing and job training!

*Pouts* And I thought I was doing a good job hiding their wanting to take over Hogwarts! =D

And the eye? Yep! They keep it in their pocket, too… *Winces* Bakura keeps it when he has a body, but soon it'll be back in Ryou's care… Severus POV is hard, I find. I don't want to lose his character, but I want him and Ryou to get close. I'm thinking it'll be a long and difficult process…

I'm a sucker for the cuddly, cute images. Thanks for the compliments, and especially for giving me that idea for Bakura and Ryou cuddling at the end! 

Oo! Guess what? Since I have a job, I'll soon be buying a laptop! Then I can write in my room when I'm really tired, not have to use paper and fall asleep over it!

… And where is _your_ next chapter, hm? *G* Sorry, had to! Don't worry! I'm patiently waiting, so take your time and I'll enjoy it when it comes!

Karasea: A new reviewer! A new reviewer! *Pounces!* Yay! I'm glad you like, and please stay with us! It's all uphill from here!

Wait… is that a good thing…

__

Uh… Anyway, here we are! All done!

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Please, Pleeeeease Review this =Þ


	10. Where Everything

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/N: This. Was. HORRIBLE! And there's very little Ryou in it… Ah well! Big Ryou-terror is coming soon, so just be patient with your poor author, please. She sometimes neglects her main char : )

Chapter 10 Where Everything

The new school year at Hogwarts began without a hitch, the gaggle of children invading its barren halls rousing Peeves from his melancholy haunting of empty classrooms and returning him to his jovial play of tormenting his Ickle Firsties.

It was in the Great Hall, lighted by the lazily floating candles beneath the stormy greys of the enchanted ceiling, that both children and adults gathered, taking their accustomed seats along the five long tables the room hosted-one for the staff, Albus Dumbledore seated in its centre upon a high-backed golden chair, and the others for the students, each of the four placed beneath colourful banners boasting the assigned House's colours and emblem.

Hufflepuff, founded by Helga Hufflepuff, yellow and black, house of the badger; Gryffindor, founded by Godric Gryffindor, gold and scarlet, house of the lion; Ravenclaw, founded by Rowena Ravenclaw, blue and silver, house of the eagle; and Slytherin, founded by Salazar Slytherin, green and silver, the house of the snake.

Professor McGonagall, Headmistress and Head of House to Gryffindor, led a quivering school of fidgety first years out through a grand set of doors in the back of the hall and into the fire-lit chamber to stand in an amazingly straight (considering how small and frightened the children were) line before a rickety stool upon which rested an old, tattered wizards hat.

Following a song, preformed by that hat through a tear in its material, as full of not-so-subtle warning as the last years' had been, those frightened students were sorted by placing it atop their heads. As the hat called out where they belonged, they wasted no time in removing the ragged item from their heads and fleeing through applauding students for the safety of the table where they were told to go.

There were always a few who needed the way to be pointed to them, of course, but several could figure out where they were going by the way the assigned house would be beckoning and making the liveliest uproar.

As the clamour died down and the last student took their place among their future families, Albus Dumbledore rose from his chair, his aged face alight with delight. A hush fell over the Great Hall as its occupants fell still to listen.

"To those newly entering our fine school, welcome!" He beamed at the multitude of new faces strewn out among the four tables. "And to those who have wandered back home-welcome back!" He continued to smile, as twinkling as brightly as the three candles come to soar about his head like loving pets.

"The wise know when to speak. The wiser still know when not to. Tuck in!"

Even before he had seated himself again, the walls echoed with laughter and hundreds of raised voices as the children reacquainted themselves with each other.

Arabella Figg and Eugene Bakura looked exceedingly out of place as they uncomfortably picked at their foot, taking uneasy glances at the crowded hall from which equally uneasy glances were directed their way. The others, even Hagrid, had long since given up on trying to include them in any conversation, instead leaving them to themselves and the discomfort they refused to set aside.

"That ruddy hat should just give up," the lanky, red-haired Ron Weasley commented around a mouthful of potatoes to his friends Hermione Granger, a bushy-brown haired witch who bordered on fanatical when it came to homework, and the skinny, black-haired Harry Potter whose thick-framed glasses were sliding down his nose as he ate. "Might as well try and get Snape to kiss McGonagall."

Those within hearing range all winced at the disgusting images this conjured in their minds, ignoring Hermione's disgruntled chastising of her friend.

Across the noisy hall from the Gryffindor table, a certain bleach-blonde, silver-grey eyed Draco Malfoy snickered as the boy across from him, Blaise Zabini, made a similar comment. The two boys to either side of the young Malfoy carried on eating as if their food might disappear if left to long on their plates, ignoring the conversation.

"I'm tired," Pansy sighed, pouting as cutely as her somewhat puggish, over-painted face would allow. "Dracy, darling, won't you give me and my girls the password so we can go to bed?"

Draco Malfoy did a marvellous job in hiding his grimace at her name for him. "_Draco_," he said firmly. "And be patient, Pansy. The feast isn't even over yet."

Her lip thrust out farther until Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis drew her into their debate over Witches Weekly's new Most-Charming-Smile winner.

All too soon the feast came to an end, the Headmaster once again rising from his chair.

"Ah! And now, with us all filled to our brims with this magnificent meal, I plea your attention for but a moment more. First years, as well as many of our elder students, should be aware that the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, _forbidden_. Our caretaker also stresses that there is to be no magic in the corridors between classes, and that it would be a good idea for everyone to rake a peak at his ever-lengthening list of items not permitted on these grounds.

We are once again pleased to welcome two changes in our staff, although this time there will be three faces-two new, and one I believe that some of our older students will recognize. Professor Remus Lupin is returning to us for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, proving without a doubt that it's curse can't be _that_ bad, and our fresh arrivals, Professors Arabella Figg and Eugene Bakura, will be taking over Muggle-Studies. Please welcome them!"

There was a burst of applause mostly from those in years four and up, where students remembered the sickly, greying man as one of the few teachers in that job who actually held their interest and taught them something. Everyone was thankful that there would be no Umbridge repeat.

When this applause died down and the other standing teachers, those whose names had been called, thankfully reclaimed their seats, Dumbledore drew his speech to a cheerful closing.

"Now, before we toddle off to dream our pleasant dreams of the days to come, lets all join in and weave a greater magic than any other:"

His enthusiastic voice was joined by the students' as they all sang the school song together their disharmony bringing many a member of the staff, Eugene Bakura and Arabella Figg among them, to wince.

"Ah," the Headmaster sighed. "Beautiful as always. Goodnight, now, and remember: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon!"

With these wise words bringing grins to tired lips, the children dispersed, heading for their respective dorms and the beds laid ready in wait for them.

Thunder rolled somewhere outside the rain-streaked window, the flash of a fresh burst of lightening illuminating the chamber for a mere instant. Huddled beneath a thick violet comforter, Ryou clutched the material tightly, knuckles paling with the force of his grip.

He gave a pitiful little sneeze and tensed, half-expecting a bolt of lightening to hone in on that sound and come after him.

Here, in this derelict building, it seemed that the shudders given to it from the storm could bring it crashing upon his head. Storms never bothered him when he could turn on music or the television drown out the sound. Out here he had none of those options.

The rain beating against the window picked up in force, giving Ryou the uncomfortable impression that, soon, the flimsy glass separating it from his chamber would shatter. Then the lightening would get in.

But lightening could pass through glass if it wanted. There were trees all around, and the mansion was tall, why couldn't it go for the roof or the trees instead of him?

Another crash brought the building to tremble. He hoped that his spirit wasn't out in this, it sounded _horrible_…

Several days had passed since he and the spirit had last spoken. Though he'd seen him a time or two during the day, and slept alongside of him each night. Ryou had done as he'd been told and refrained from speaking to any of those around him save the Egyptians, earning him many pouts from Bellatrix but no trouble from anyone else. It was an easy enough thing to do, really, when the only one there willing to talk to him was a crazy woman.

Ryou was finding himself getting more and more tired lately, wanting to do nothing more than lie in bed while his darkness went about on whatever self-appointed missions he had to complete. Probably from how little he'd been eating since their arrival, he guessed, but he didn't really feel all that hungry anyway. Breakfast was enough, and the odd sandwich and glass of water Rishid would sometimes show up in his chambers with.

His spirit never noticed his dwindling energy, but that was expected. The other hadn't returned to the ring since that night in the snake-man's study, and had never held any real interest in his kitten when there was no obvious problem to be noticed. Maybe the lessening in Ryou's energy was taken as a sign that there would be little resistance if any future plans involved him.

No mice or rats had ever poked their noses out from underneath the bed, so that, at least, had turned out to be a foolish fear he'd had. It seemed odd that he'd heard it so clearly, but maybe it'd been there, found the once empty chamber occupied, and scurried off to someplace it could have to itself. That made sense…

Before dawn blushed over the castle and its grounds, Eugene Bakura received a summons and followed one of those wrinkly, little bat-eared creatures down shifting hallways to the Headmaster's office. A sleepless night of anxiety over facing the cherubic faces of the wee ones of the castle left his mind in a chaotic mess.

With a knock at the top of those stone stairs to Becca's uncle's office and a bid to enter, Eugene found himself face to face with the solemn-eyed headmaster, who donned violet robes with luminescent stars and moons that would be more familiar to one of those 'foolish mockeries of perfectly noble Wizards!', as Becca often said, referring to some book or picture depicting the non-magical view of Wizards. "Good morning, Eugene," the old one greeted gently.

Eugene inclined his head, responding cordially, "And good morning to you, Professo-Albus, I mean." He wondered at the serious air the man held this morning, so different from the night be fore's, and felt a flutter of fear that news may have come over Ryou's situation.

"Tea, son?"

Taken aback by the kindly request at so early an hour, Eugene shook his head in negative. "Thank you, though. Is there news?" What type of information, he wondered, could have come at such an hour? Of course, something may have come to light the night before, and the old one could have merely waited for morning before informing him of the fresh news.

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh, shaking his own head. "I fear not," he answered. "I only wanted to impress upon you that you needn't teach today if you feel that you can't. Today will be a hard enough day for you, I'm, sure. Arabella would be fine."

Confusion furrowed the Archaeologist's already wrinkled brow. Why would today be any harder than those before, he wondered. Although he dreaded facing the gathering of children he'd be expected to fill with knowledge, Eugene didn't think that he could be cruel enough to leave Mrs. Figg to be smothered by the lambs. "I'm sure that I'll manage, sir," he assured the elder instead.

An even deeper sadness revealed itself in the other's blue eyes at these words, leading Eugene to wonder if he had somehow injured the Headmaster's spirit somehow. "Only if you feel that you must," Dumbledore relented, those blue, blue eyes, no matter how dampened, agelessly sharp. "Still, I know that any father would find it difficult to teach on this day of all days."

Fighting his increasing puzzlement, finding no answer in his mind save that the elder may be referring to all the children gathering where Becca's son should be, he did his best to appear as if he understood. "I assure you, sir, I'll be fine." With a weak smile, he added, "After all, it's only fitting that I repay my stay in some way."

There wasn't much else to be said after this, and he soon left, leaving his confusion behind with the weary Headmaster whose knowing eyes watched him as he exited.

All too soon for Eugene the breakfast ended, and time for his first class begun. Mrs. Figg, now Professor Figg, hadn't made it to the table and he'd been bothered by the idea that she might have skipped out on him, but, as he stood stiffly at the front of the room, a long, brown robe hanging off of his lanky form, she entered in a state of disarray, her hair mussed as if uncombed, with slippers peaking out beneath the orange gown-like robe she was uncomfortably wearing. Fighting the urge to gawk, Eugene greeted her with as much respect as he could tether for such an awkward-looking creature. After all, whatever she looked like and however little held she was probably going to be, she knew more of this world than he did, and they were in this together.

He had only to blink before the expected third-years filled in the empty spaces of the narrow, desk-crammed chamber. Without preamble, or any of the introductions Eugene remembered from the dim days of his boyhood, the thoroughly rattled and snippy Arabella launched into a listing of the 'Do not under any circumstances _do_'. There were only seven of the creatures there, so Eugene was sure that most would have been impossible for them to pull off anyway, but he was glad to let her take over.

Neither really knew anything about how to teach, after all.

Even before she finished her listing, hands were thrust into the air.

"Is it true that muggles eat _mice_? Like _owls_?"

"Do muggles _really_ live in caves?"

"My Daddy says that they skin Wizards and sell their hides!"

"Can they really only know about 80 words? That's all Jake Bennet knows!" At this one, exclaimed excitedly by a pudgy-faced little boy with his hand only half-raised, a round of snickers came from his fellows.

"My big brother said he'd let me have one for a pet if I learned how to mute Mom! Isn't that _great_?"

Arabella was getting even more rattled than before, her tension visibly rising with Eugene's.

"Dad says they're just like us, only have no magic!"

This comment, declared by a tiny little girl near the front, earned a reply female professor. "Of course they are," Arabella snapped. Then she seemed somewhat unsure of this response, but hadn't the time to make any amendments to this, since raising hands had long since been abandoned.

"Are they edible, like deer and chickens? I mean, they aren't _human_!"

"Do they look like us? _May_ sure doesn't!" Exclamations of agreement rolled through the chamber, along with other names being thrown in to support this theory, one of which was a 'Dennis'.

"Will we get to meet some?"

Eugene couldn't remember his son ever acting like this during his own brief visits to their housings. How could parents raise their kids to act like this!

As the arguments springing up from this student-raised debate excelled to levels threatening to bleed his eardrums, Arabella exploded and scrawled across the board, 'Muggles are non-magical _humans_', two lines beneath the _humans._

"So… they're squibs?"

Taking comfort in his role of observer, Eugene wondered if this last was a touchy subject with his colleague. He'd heard that word, squib, said before around her, and now, as with then, her eyes certainly sparked.

"Most certainly _not!_" The intensity of her declaration silenced the room. Muggles haven't any magic. Squibs just don't have enough to channel!"

The end to class couldn't come soon enough. And, even then, their brief respite would only last until the afternoon, when another group, older, would be coming to them.

This Voldemort feared the old man at Hogswart. Night had been spent contemplating this very fact, and Bakura had risen to the conclusion that, if this one spurred such a feeling in one with so many in his power, deeper consideration would have to be taken over the situation and its many facets. The tomb keeper was something that could be used on occasion, but both sides of him were young, and their judgement, while commendable for a mortal, shouldn't be adopted for his own until he himself found it sound.

It could very well be that he'd taken up the wrong side, the losing face, where others could be had. It was obvious that this was no mere two-sided battle. There was a clashing of wills to both sides, where opportunities could be seized upon and moulded into his own liking. And there, at least, his pet might not be so in the way. Perhaps he'd even prove useful, where he had been supposed to be sent there in the first place, to the very old man the snake lord feared.

Once again Voldemort was hissing empty threats and vile curses at the old one's name. Leaning against the wall, watching this all, Bakura let his theories spread themselves out before his mind's eye, running through them critically. He could afford to be patient in this, for anything unsound would have to be cast aside and replaced, for it would not do to have this one questioning this alliance.

That he should suggest this stretching of assistance over the more prominent of the groups to the tomb keeper he'd decided against. It was one thing if the younger Egyptian caught on to these plans and worked with him, quite another if _he_, the great thief, broached the idea to the other.

"It would be interesting to see this place."

Bakura's comment drew the attention of those surrounding him, sharp eyes trying to pierce the thoughts behind his words.

"I am going there. See these barriers for myself, and just what they teach."

Violet eyes watched calculatingly, owner silent, while Bakura talked his way into where he wanted to be. The questioned connection his light held to the old man seemed to entice Voldemort, for, weakened as he was by the loss of the spy, the man desired a link, no matter how poor, to the school he lusted after. Using this to his advantage, it took little effort for the dark spirit to get his way.

Waking, eating, tending the dolls, sleeping-this was becoming the schedule Ryou lived by. He hadn't bothered leaving their chamber that day, not even for breakfast, and had lain in bed all day, eating only the sandwich brought to him by Rishid sometime around noon. Now, the pregnant moon having arced into its descent, the spirit of the Ring returned to settle into the aged four-poster with him, draping an arm over his light's side.

"I already have two of the items, and the third is practically within my grasp," the spirit purred against Ryou's ear. "Soon I'll gain what is mine by rights." Ryou's unresisting body was pulled tightly against his spirit's as the other chuckled darkly, planning, perhaps, what he would do to Yugi and the Pharaoh. "Marik will not give his part of the bargain without a struggle, no matter Malik's disinterest, but we shall see."

The Spirit of the Millennium Ring wanted only to hear himself speak, so Ryou made no attempt to discourage him, only snuffling softly now and again. He didn't want to hear those soft words, or remember that the future held anything other than the warmth of the bed and the possessiveness of his other half. In the concealment of the night, the anguish of living held no right to sting at his brittle soul. The things he blocked from himself were growing too numerous, the strain eating at him from within.

"Life is eternal, but this matters little. Power is what is important, my little kitten. I will teach you this."

The arm encircling his waist eased its hold, now snug instead of restricting. Careless of the pain in his light's heart, the spirit gave in to sleep. Ryou closed his eyes against the burning behind them, willing himself to relax into the shadowy cradle sleep offered.

End Ch.10

I made it! Blinks Whoa… For such a bland, non-Ryou chappie (I just added the little bit at the end to try and make up for this), I'm actually quite proud. Do I expect you all to like it? No… I admit not… Still, I got this much out, and have now made it past this scene, to where Ryou finds his way to _another_ part of the Wizarding World…

Hoo hoo hoo!

__

_Responses To Reviewers:_

Eden's Echo: I'm afraid that I can't tell you what was on the scroll just now, but I _can_ say that I doubt Yugi will be making any appearances, or, at least, any important ones. I'm worried that his joining the school there would make if difficult for Ryou to slowly get to know the people surrounding him. And they'd take away from the attention on Ryou, which I don't want at all! XD

Maruken: Hugs You're back! Whew! Well, lots has happened, but there's a ton more to come! Bakura has to keep a tight leash on Ryou, you see, else the little guy would probably run off and never come back…

The Inspector: Thank you SO much for the wish of good luck! (Btw: LOVE MY JOB!) And look at me, complaining about no new chapters from you and then taking two weeks to update! I'm horrible! The rat was Peter, yes, but it wasn't really important. I just wanted to stick that in to make something happen… Sheepish Grins

The scroll's contents will all be revealed soon, but you're comment about marriage records is setting off little plot-bells in my head. I'm going to have to think some about it… Ryou should be well on his way to the school in the next chapter, if everything goes right. I really, _really_ want to get him there. There's only so much 'sitting around feeling sick' that a guy can do before it gets old, especially for the one writing it!

Pokes a few times Still don't need you yet, but I almost did!

Antago: Snickers Thanks! I liked that line, too! Thank you for reminding me about the little guy's b-day, I almost missed it! Now it's written into the chapter, even though only one person remembers it. I bet you know which one!

Oo, I love long reviews! I hope this chapter answers your questions and gives you lots more!

Rath Set-Seraph: Thank you both! Tips her hat I do my very best, you see!

Peter Kim: I'm not overly sure that the Ygo group will be coming into this. Only Ryou and Malik/Marik for now. Sorry! The agreement they made with Voldemort is still strong, even though Bakura's trying to shift things into his own favour.

Curtis Zidane Ziraa: Oh, don't worry! I wouldn't dare have a bad ending. Still, I'm not sure if _this_ will have a good ending, since I'm not yet sure if I'm making this one or two stories. Still, the long story or smaller, still-long set will definitely have a happy ending when all's finally said and done.

Yami hitokiri: Ohhh! Thank you!! Once again, a review has me all bouncy and hyper! Oh dear… G And don't go doing something that'll keep you from reviewing. I need you here to read my work, dangit!

I'm not sure about Yugi and co, as I've said, but it _is_ a thought. Maybe, after he's settled some, and the first half is completed, I'll think about it. Still, as much as I love them all, I'm not too sure that they'll be coming into this. And, if they do, it'd only really be Yugi, with mention of the others at home…

mystic bunny piper: Thank you! I hope that you still think Ryou's cute in this chapter… with all of a few lines of Ryou-part… why am I neglecting my mc? Sad Sighs Poor guy…

Opal Shadow: Yep! He's Wormtail, squeaking around under the bed to frighten good little boys that are patiently waiting for their big, evil Darknesses! I'm glad that you find this story original. I'm hoping to keep it this way. I think that my keeping Yugi and co. out of the story will help this… Crosses fingers

Hope you like this next part!

Shi-koi: Oh… dear… Blinks a few times You're reviewing my story? Ack!! And I hope tht everything has been better for you lately : )

On a more serious note, I'm extremely grateful for your constructive criticism. Am I writing the characters as if they're diluted? I'll definitely have to work on this. I don't want too much of their ways to show through, since I want to bring them into the story as Ryou meets them, and let his opinions gradually work their way into becoming the role the characters take on in this fiction of mine… Does that make any sense?

Aye, the relationship between Ryou and Bakura isn't very constant. I feel that this makes it more believable that Ryou doesn't know how to deal with his Darkness, since a way the spirit would react one day wouldn't necessarily be the ways he reacts the next.

Thank you so much, again, for your help, the compliments, and the comments on my writing. It's a very big help!

If there's anything that any of you don't like about this, anything that I should change, or that doesn't seem to go right, please let me know. Without you guys reading, I'd never get anywhere in this story! Why would I bother? Nobody to read it makes it boring to write, out that I've tried out putting up my own stories!

Phew! I felt horrid that I couldn't get it out last week, but I was swamped, and there was no way that I could possibly get it put! Sorry about that, everyone. I really hope that you're all still here!

Please, Pleeeeease Review This Strange Creation of Mine Þ


	11. Is a Game

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/N: Edited as of 01/29/07

Chapter 11 Is a Game

"Bakura, no! My dolls-"

"They'll be brought to you."

Ryou strained against the hand dragging him down night-darkened corridors, his head turned towards the stairway behind them. "Please, Bakura, I can't just leave them!" His begging fell on deaf ears, his darkness continuing to force him towards the exit. Ryou tried again, pleading, "Where are we going? I don't want them here on their own."

Morning had dawned, day had passed, neither differing in the cycles that lately made up Ryou's life. Rishid had come part-way through the day bearing a sandwich which he hadn't felt up to eating, leaving again after dropping that off, likely to find Malik. Then, only seconds ago, his Spirit had barged in on him, seized him by the wrist, and dragged him from bed out into the hall, single-minded stride giving no suggestion of slowing for his weaker part.

"It does not matter to you where we go, you will see soon enough," was all he received for his efforts. "Cease your struggles before I punish you."

Ryou _didn't_ quit. He dug his bare heels into the floor, striving to slow down their progress. He had no clue what this was about, but he was _not_ going to just follow blindly, leaving his already partially shirked duties behind. "I don't even have shoes, Bakura! I need _something_ on my feet or my cold will get worse, summer or not!"

An angry growl washed warm air over his ear and then Ryou was flung forward, crashing to the floor with a shocked gasping of unexpected pain, wrist twisting beneath his weight. "I warned you, little kitten," his spirit hissed.

Blackness washed over his senses, skeletal hands closing bony fingers over his body as the mist overtook him. He'd been locked away within his mind, giving his darkness reign over his body.

Having warned the small one that there would be consequences for in insubordination, Bakura felt no pity for sealing him away. This was going to be done, be it one way or another. He'd merely have to spice the experience up enough to remind his pet just _who_ the master was.

The Death Eaters' target was a large Victorian home suited for the raising of a large family, built upon a moonlit estate decorated with trees to climb and a clear brook, daring to spill free of a protective forest, perfect for the fishing of children. An amber-eyed figure moved free of the cluster of masked figures within those trees to prowl about the blue-grey walls, piercing gaze seeming to break through painted shingles to see what he wanted to. Those behind impatiently awaited a designated time of attack, he was under no such restrictions.

'You wanted a doll so badly,' the Spirit taunted his light. "Fine.'

The wariness gathering within his kitten's thoughts was satisfying.

Choosing his route of entry and climbing his way onto the outward sweep of the veranda's roofing, the Egyptian picked his way to a lighted window and crouched with near impossible balance to work the window open, unhindered by a latch long rusted through. A moment later, the spirit slid through the gape he'd manage to space between window and sill, emerging into the flowery chamber within.

In this small, bright nursery littered with blocks and assorted toys any youth would covet, a strawberry-blonde child looked up from the pink, stuffed bunny she'd been bouncing along an oddly-shaped mound of giant Lego, her bright blue eyes widening in surprise. Following this was a wide smile, those eyes watching the spirit as he stalked closer and knelt opposite her across the mound. Ryou, forced to watch this vision, felt cruel terror wash his senses free of the uncertainty that had been so all-consuming not long before.

"Hello," the Darkness greeted.

"Hi," she chirped, cheeks dimpling with the extent of her smile, the hand with the bunny still wriggling it around carelessly. Kind of like the hand, left without any directions, chose to carry on its last game.

"What are you doing?"

The child puffed up, her eyes shining with an innocent light, for she had been doing something very obvious, and very important. "Play-in," was the smug declaration, her you-should-know-_that_ left unspoken. "Who're you?"

"Who-are-you", Bakura corrected as he tapped her slightly upturned nose, adding to his act a sinister wink as his hand was withdrawn. "The best friend you will ever have, child. Do you want to be my friend?"

Buried deep within the dark mind, Ryou felt that he could weep, had he but eyes to do so with. How could his Darkness look straight into those eyes with no shame? She was a baby, and he planned to steal the life away from her before she could grow past her appreciation of it. The child was flowing as if she'd been gifted with a treasure rarer than a handful of kind words from an unexpected stranger. "Uh-huh! Play with me?"

The Dark Spirit brushed aside the preferred bunny. "Why not _you_ play a game with _me_."

The ominous ring tainting those words went unnoticed by the innocent child. Ryou ached for her as all she understood, with a gleeful squeal, was the offer of a game. "Oh," she cried. "Please!"

Extracting the deck from the pocket of the overlarge robe, the spirit split it into two equal halves and allowed her to chose which she wanted. Ryou, unable to cry out for her to run, could only watch his spirit's play unfold. With the gentle cadences of a loving brother, the ancient one's words led the child through this game of darkness, smoothing aside the fascinated queries she made concerning the thick mist gathering 'round and dampening the light of the yellow walls.

'Stop it, Yami-sama!' Ryou's plea met with no response. 'Stop it, stop it! Please, please, please…'

In the end, the mist reaching towards their bodies, the Spirit told the little girl that there was a final trick for her to see. He let his pet close his vision to the scene, revelling in his own feel of the power issuing from he and the ring, letting it drift nearer until it swallowed his curious victim it its body and mould her into a new form, trapping the glowing soul into a body of wood.

The brief reprieve Ryou was gifted to ended there, once more seeing the clean walls, undimmed by the mists of shadow, making up the cluttered but tidy walls of the nursery. He could feel the wooden body lying snug in his chill arms, the dead weight of the cards in the pocket of his robe.

'Your new present,' was all that his spirit bothered to say before snatching back control of their limbs and brining their body to stand, to walk, uncontested, from the opening door of the nursery into the long hall. Laughter and exclamations, stemming from a gathering down the stairs, reverberated through the walls of wood and mortar, growing clearer the nearer they came to the head of the stairs.

Ryou _didn't_ want to go down where the other humans were. With the little control left to him, he smothered the wooden child against his chest, traitorous bare feet padding against the creaking steps. The cool of the wood beneath his feet, the warmth of what lay in his arms. Sounds of enjoyment, boisterous, were telling that this house was lived. Dry and loved, not damp and rotting at the core. Sick excitement was welling high in his other half, spilling the excess emotions through to the weak captive of his own body.

The laughter of the gathering ended with a clamour of unexpected sounds: tinkling of glass bursting in upon itself ; screams of startled pain as walls exploded; fearful cries when they saw their assailants; growled words weaving through the whistling from airborne lights; crinkling of shattering dishes and other objects being thrown in poor defence; and then all ceased, save for the screaming of pain and begging for mercy.

That who was in control gave no hesitation at the foot of the old stairway, moving towards the source of this chaos.

Lestrang's screams and suffering were as nothing compared to what was beyond the arching doorway. Like the kitten he was so aptly named, Ryou cried out in fright as control slammed him back into the whirling reality of what was happening around him. With sharper vision came the overmastering smell of fear and tangy blood, agonised cries ringing loudly as each tore through the crowded chamber amidst shrill whistling of flying lights.

Somehow, Ryou found himself in a back corner, sagging down the wall until he was hunched on the floor with eyes closed, his doll crushed into his chest. Retching tore through his chest, but nothing would come from his starved stomach save the swell of choking mucus gathering in his throat. Sick laughter, pouring through the screaming currents of the air, cut into his breath even as the cult dispersed with implosions that popped his ears, leaving behind a sickly green glow coating the darkened chamber through splintered windows.

Aurors rushed there as soon as they heard of the Dark Mark in the sky, entering to the horrific scene becoming all-too familiar.

Kingsley felt his heart constrict as his searching gaze fell on the shivering robed form huddling by the back wall just beyond a woman's corpse, a childish doll clutched to the small one's chest. Children should never have to witness these things. He watched as a woman approached the caution reserved for startled creatures in danger of harming themselves in a restraining trap. Why, he wondered, had they left this one alive when all others were dead?

All to likely, he knew with a sinking heart, this one left behind had been tortured into insanity.

Without thought, his feet took him to join her, eyes intent upon the pallid child. "Shh," Kinta was murmuring calmingly, reaching out the gloved hand not holding her want to brush some of the errant hair out of the shaken youth's face and giving them both a clearer view of what they'd found. Light from their wands shone on skin near translucent, male features gentler than any had a right to boast, with wide eyes of a brown that should have been a warm, heartening brown, not reflections of the terrified sorrow clinging beads of tears to the long lashes framing them. As her fingertips made contact with his skin, he cringed, already unsteady breath hitching. There was a wooden doll clutched by those arms, they now saw, with cheerfully blonde hair nestled in the tightly wrapped arms.

A new wave of hatred tore through him as he knelt next to Kinta and told the pale woman to go assist with the assessing of the corpses, that he could take things from there. Her youngest child's death had been only a week before, leaving much too raw of a wound for her to try to deal with another's broken child.

"You'll have to come with me, son," Kingsley Shacklebolt told the young one gently, standing and guiding the child to his feet. Somehow he managed to get him there, the youth standing unsteadily on feet hidden beneath the dragging hem of the too-long school robes. Hadn't Hogwarts already begun a day or two before? Slipping out of the heavy raven and plum cloak draped over his shoulders, Kingsley tucked it over the lad's own, ignoring the way the other flinched when the hands brushes against him. "The Ministry will make sure everything is okay."

Although, really, this was a piss-poor comfort considering the misconduct within the Ministry until such a short time ago. He counted only on the innocent trust of a child to accept this, and was not as disappointed as he could have been when no reaction was given to those words. He instead did the clasp of the cloak to hold it in place, not bothering with the sleeves hanging lax at the sides of the slight figure. If the small one could garner some comfort out of the wooden body almost pulled within his chest, he deserved it. It and so much more.

Ryou, locked from his spirit, had been left alone with the dead bodies. He paid little heed to where he was being led, knowing only that the damp grass was cold beneath his toes, and that the sickly green glow of the sky was reflected by the bald head of his guide. Birds were chirping around them, oblivious to the death witnessed so near to their roosts. Why the screams had not frightened them off Ryou didn't know. Something inside bid him to seek the source of this glow and he found, nestled in dank clouds of night black obscuring the stars beneath, the likeness of a snake coiling 'round a rotting skull.

"Look away, child. You're safe now." The gentle arm of the man supporting him tightened. He looked down from the sky, fixing his gaze once more upon the face of the child hugged close to his chest.

He was soon seated in a car, its door slamming shut behind him as the man backed away. Alone again with the child. Blood trickling from screaming mouths, anguished pleas for mercy blurred the space between he and the world around. Everything was lost and nothing could be made into sense.

Someone sat beside him. Words flowed above his notice as the car lurched into a start, blending together into a gentle backdrop for the song he could almost hear a woman's voice sing.

Bent over his desk, Albus Dumbledore stared into his tea distractedly with eyes deserted by what was thought by his staff to be their perpetual twinkle. School was at a start, classes had picked themselves up and unwound before the ready student eyes well-rested by Summer, yet, again, this one thing was missing. He'd resigned himself years ago to close his family from his life in view of the big picture, a war building and broiling about him that needed his attentions so much more. Now, again, both were here to flaunt in his face all he was losing in both.

Students and staff needed his attention on the unravelling days needing guidance, Minister and world needed his resolute support and steady hand to guide them through the coming days, but neither of these chosen choices could take from his mind his late niece and her lost child.

That Riddle kept his nephew was a knife to the old heart within his chest. Tom had turned Severus from a lost boy into a embittered man. Tom had rendered a newborn family with all the promise of youth into naught but a martyred orphan. Tom had destroyed countless other families, old and young, in such a same way, thinning the families of the Wizarding World in a way that left few but those who he could use and shape by his own will.

And he had, years ago, driven the last of Albus' close family from his side.

Behind him the roaring of the fire struck through the thick violet robes on his back, drawing hi mind away from those thoughts as he turned, readying himself for the bad news that would be awaiting such a late summons.

It took but a moment for the reason for this call to come to light.

Albus went for him with no questions, bringing Severus and asking Mr. Bakura to wait in his office with Minerva and Fawks. The first vision he received of his long-missed nephew settled heavily upon the old man's heart, painful but reassuring in the sense that the youth so dear to his heart still lived. He'd survived Tom.

Ryou looked like a child playing dress-up in their parents robes, a doll clutched against his chest in thin hands. But he was a child, and had undoubtedly seen things that should haunt him for the rest of his days. The translucent skin of his face quickened both men's hearts as they gazed from the doorway at the tiny figure curled small on the thick cushioned chair in the Minister's office. Signs of shock were still written on the soft features of the young one, angering Albus as only Tom could.

Enough had been done before this that Tom Riddle would have to pay for. This only strengthened the old one's resolve to see this to its end himself.

Into the room he strode, forcing himself to assume a grandfatherly expression of kindly concern. He wanted to sweep the child into his arms and tell him that everything was over now, that he'd be safe under his uncle's watchful protection, except the youth didn't know him yet. Words like this could only scare away one already put through so

Trust would have to be earned before all else.

With Severus backing him, it took little time for Albus to disentangle Ryou from the Ministry's clutches. Doing his best to soothe the frazzled child's nerves and feel out whether damage may have been done could be continued later, with St. Mungo's and Poppy for help. The doll in his nephew's arms gave him pause, but it could be worried over later. Enough time was wasted. He only hoped that the shaken boy could stand the short walk to the Wizarding Hospital with his and Severus' assistance.

It was a shabbily old-fashioned, red-bricked department store entitled 'Purge & Dows Ltd.' that the group stopped outside of. The entire place held an unpleasant air to Ryou as he took the sight in with its large, filthy windows housing chipped dummies with their matted wigs hanging crooked and modeling moth-eaten clothing that had to be from at least ten years before.

The vague notion that after all of this the man he'd been sent to stay with might be homeless itched at Ryou's mind as he took in the finishing touch, large sings declaring 'Closed for Refurbishment' nailed against all of the pealing doors. This unsettling thought swelled in Ryou's weary mind as the old man went on to _speak_ to a dummy donning a green nylon pinafore dress whose eyelashes were falling off. "Wotcher, we need to have this young fellow looked at."

Nothing happened for a long moment. The Professor's arm shifted Ryou's weight impatiently, a low half-growl brushing Ryou's ear that could have come from either the man or his spirit. Then one of the dummy's expended hands curled its long finger in a beckoningly. Though the glass Ryou was led forward despite his locking muscles, his body tingling with the unsettling feeling of one stepping through a waterfall.

The large room this took them into held row by row of chairs where unusual men and women, voices tangling in annoyed arguments, animalistic snarls and chirps, where all around men and women in long green robes wandered about, taking casual glances and frequently speaking as they took leisurely wrote on their clipboards.

A woman in a portrait boasting a more elegant frame than those on other walls, like those who had been in the place Ryou had been taken to before, was looking down on them from above the plump blonde woman issuing floor rooms and snippy remarks to those ahead. Behind her and beneath this portrait was a puzzling board with such things as 'ARTEFACTS, ACCIDENTS and SPELLDAMAGE' written across it.

Those between them and the line-up were gazing back at them with curious expressions, some shuffling out of their way, others greeting Dumbledore excitedly and reaching out to take his hand. The Public was still uneasy around Albus for having turned upon him so fast and been proved fools. Sensing his mentor's pitying thoughts, Severus growled venomously, "Well they should be ashamed, too."

"Good evening, Marla," The old man greeted her as they made their way forward. "Young Ryou Bakura needs to be seen. Fourth floor, I believe. Is there any room available for us without an appointment?"

"Of course there is, Professor Dumbledore." She looked past him to Snape uneasily, then cast a critical glance over the uncomfortable Ryou. "Looks well enough."

"That remains to be seen. Good day, my dear."

A sneering Severus urged Ryou along.

The hall they took was lined with portraits of men and women in lime robes drifting about from frame to frame to speak together or trail behind living men and women walking or, depending on their abnormality, stumbling around the Ryou and his companions. Doors opened on this hallway, offering Ryou glimpses of men and women donning fungus, faces misshapen by horns or snouts, screaming uncontrollably as the lime-ones with them sought to calm them and close the curtains to offer privacy.

Soon a women with a long, blond ponytail down her back met them. Ryou ignored the talk she shared with the old man and Professor, staring through the crack of a door as a dark man and his smaller companion struggled to overpower a cursing… something… as it kicked and threw things at them.

He was again led away from the sight, this time into a sterile chamber smelling of lemon, disinfectant and staleness. There he was ordered to lie down on the empty white-and-silver bed as the woman pointedly closing the curtains on the overly curious woman with green-brown hair and bristly-looking spikes roosted on the bed adjacent to his. "Now, Professors, what is the problem?"

They'd told him that it was a doctor he'd be seeing, but this was not the kind of doctor he was used to. She was robed as all those around him lately, even himself. Armed, too. Ryou flinched as she flicked the wand, so like the ones wreaking pain upon the innocent family, to point at his forehead. The expected pain did not come. It was tapped against his brow lightly, causing only a glow against the lids of his eyes.

"It's a confidential matter," the Professor snapped, but his words were followed by the gentle tones of his elderly companion. Ryou liked this voice. It was soothing and strong, no matter that its owner was wizened with age.

"Captured by Voldemort, I fear," Albus Dumbledore told her. "We just collected him from the ministry and as yet we're not sure if anything with the child is amiss."

"The poor dear!" She immediately began fussing over Ryou as he continued to clench his eyes shut, unwilling to ease this defence until he was sure that the wand was gone. "No more worries, luv. Carla Sourwein will fix you right up, she will!"

Several more flashes cast their multihued glows against his eyelids after this. Then, gently, the woman moved closer until he could tell that the scent of lemons was also on her, sweetened to something more reminiscent to lemonade rather than a sour tang. Gently she tilted up his chin, tsking. "Now open those pretty eyes of yours, child. I need to see them."

Open them he did, but her hand had to tighten and hold him still as she checked beneath each, the tip of her wand lighting what she was seeing and leaving dark blotches staining his vision.

"There is no residue from dark magic in his system. Slightly undernourished, needs more liquids in his diet. Shock has set in, though the brunt of it seems to have passed. Any trauma must have been from what he's seen, not experienced. No wonder, my little dear, with what you've been put through." Releasing his chin, she ruffled his hair with her other hand before turning to face the two men, stirring an annoyed rise from Ryou's dark half.

"I suggest lots of rest and calming draughts for the next few days. None until he gets back to school, however, for it'll knock the child asleep." She trailed the tips of her glossy nails over the doll in Ryou's arms, a solemn smile on her lips. "I'm not near as accustomed to children as I should be, Professors. Poppy should be consulted for anything further. Now, don't worry, luv," this last to Ryou. "It's all over now. These men and Poppy will see to you, no doubt about that!"

Supported again by Professor Snape, and with the old one close to his side, Ryou was taken from the building out into the night street. He welcomed the cool air in exchange for the tightness of that within of the building they'd just vacated. The elderly man rested his hand on Ryou's bony shoulder as they stopped by the road, but his words were for the Professor.

"The Knight Bus, Severus."

A wand was brandish and, with what could only be described as a sonic boom, there appeared the bus, screeching to a stop as its bright lights blinded Ryou once more to the dark of night. They boarded it passed a freckly young man and the older driver, the Professor's hands all that kept him from falling. In seconds he found himself curled up on a rickety bed, a cocoa-stained blanket being wrapped around his shoulders by the old one he'd been sent to stay with.

The scenes outside of the windows passed too swiftly for him to take them in, though at first he tried. Letting them lose focus, Ryou turned his stifled thoughts inwards until the trip passed. His spirit was content as the trip passed, and Ryou could not say what this place he entered looked like, only that it held a warmth he'd never before attributed to stone, and gave him a comfort that he couldn't for the life of himself understand.

His legs were getting wobbly from the long day's strain coupled with the scant rest offered them by the strange bus. It was a relief when Severus swept him up to carry him the final stretch. His steps had been slowing down their trek. Unmindful of the bitter taste his spirit's woken anger left inside him, Ryou let his heavy head fall to the man's shoulder, eyes closing until a familiar gasp, marred by the closing of a door, roused his mind again.

By a large desk stood his father, the man's stricken eyes trained upon his face. This was too much. A keening whine swelled in his throat, irrational tears battling for freedom. Sanity had finally driven him from its faltering hold, spilling him into a place where dreams and the past mixed. The professor's grip slackened then he was clutched close, and a distant part of him acknowledged the stricken expression the man shared with the old one. His father's eyes were widened in fear, a man carved of stone.

Hysterics, this rational part of him recognized-it may have been his spirit, for the voice was bitter with annoyance. Knowing what caused it did not lessen the emotions bursting against him, nor slow his tears. A keen cut into his mind, coming from his own throat. He embraced both it and the freedom from thought it lent him, letting it block all else until he felt that he could pass out from the need of air within his lungs.

He breathed and cried again and again, until his lungs shuddered in threat of collapsing. He took pause in indecision, unsure if he should lift his voice again. A calmness had encased his emotions, one he recognized as his spirit manipulating them to ward away what he could not deal with. 'No more, weakling,' was the irate order before the link was severed.

Ryou obeyed. He was now in a soft chair, limbs encumbered by a tightly wrapped blanket when he tried to lift a hand and wipe clear his eyes. The old man did this for him with a soft cloth, pale face wrought with worry. Next to him crouched the woman who he recognized from the day Malik and Marik had stolen him away. Over them Ryou could see his father standing stiff and at a loss. He did not blame him. He didn't know how to deal with himself either. Where was Professor Snape?

"Easy, child," a warm voice melted against his mind. "We have you now. Let it all out and you'll be the better for it." He managed to free his hand and wiped at the new tracks of tears forming where the old one had smoothed them away. He wasn't to cry anymore so he wouldn't.

Ryou was let be for a long time after his breakdown, the adults speaking together with words he didn't care to follow. His sleepy daze was not broken until Mr. Dumbledore spoke to him.

"I will let you join the other students soon, child. First won't you try on this hat for me, Ryou? It would take but a moment."

"Albus, you can't serio-"

The old one silenced the lady professor with a glance and turned back to him. Ryou noticed a blurry lump of dark material in the man's hand and rubbed at his eyes to clear them, giftinhim with a small nod. Giving his head a gentle pat, the old one smiled and raised the ragged lump of material up onto his head, releasing it there to sag until it cut off most of his sight.

At first nothing happened. It was as if there was naught beneath the tattered brim but the wood of the shelf it laid upon year-round awaiting the sorting. Ryou felt a sliver of uncertainty whether he should be doing something or just be sitting there, waiting like the others. His mind drifted back to the manikin. It, too, had seemed normal enough.

His spirit's presence rolled inside his mind, raw power lapping from it against unseen boundaries. _Curiosity?_

* * *

_Where naught had been but black, glimmerings of a mind were twining together to open to the reaching tendrils of magic given out from the aged material. And, for the first time, the hat felt fear. No the king of fear that it felt whenever its school was in dark times, no, but _real_ fear. This was magic that poured into it. Ancient, deadly magic darker than its creators had ever experienced._

_Dangerous._

_The hat shuddered, helplessness raging on the pulse of the energy being fed into it. Cold, dusted by age without being diluted._

_Then it found hope, hidden within the gentlest tickle of a presence beneath the ill-omened darkness. A light of innocence. Weak, subdued in the shadows of its shrouding companion but there nonetheless, tarnished but unstained._

_And this hoped for its darkness as well._

_There would be no private speeches this time as the hat at last decreed, _"_Slytherin."_

* * *

A gentle smile was what the thoroughly shaken Ryou found on the old man's face as the hat was taken from his head. No one mentioned how the hat shuddered atop the child's head, or the rasping of its voice. Only one of them were oblivious to the oddity of this, and he only because he was a muggle. 

It was a relief to have it removed, for the gentle touches against his mind by so foreign a creation had startled and scared him. Only his spirit had access to him like this.

"Shall I take him to Poppy now, Albus?" Minerva's solemn voice belied the confusion in her heart. A Dumbledore in Slytherin. Such a gentle child, so unlike those who were now in the year he'd be tentatively placed into, would he be safe? Could he possibly be looked after properly?

"No, Minerva. He should be allowed to room with his fellow students. I dare say he has been on his own enough. Any treatment bestowed on him can be done from there as easily as beneath Poppy's sentry."

"I'll take him to our dorms." Dumbledore gave Ryou one last, gentle pat, this to his hand, and stood to let Severus help his child away from them. Eugene stood back, watching, but neither did he make a move to stop them as they left.

Severus guided Ryou down many stairs, taking most of his weight and practically carrying his wearied body by the time they again reached a destination, this time deep into the bowels of the castle where the air felt cool and refreshing against too warm skin. A door of stone was parted with a word, opening into a large chamber of greens and silvers, blacks and stone. There he was left.

Ryou dropped onto one of the plush chairs and pulled his legs up in front of him, encircling them with his bony arms as he huddled against the chillness of his thoughts. Down here in the dungeons there were no windows to let the sky through. This made him feel as if he were trapped. It was like being locked within his soul room.

His eyes were still sensitive, itching from the air and all of his crying, but the swelled red had faded away. He hoped that tthe traces of his tears were gone. The students that shared the common room with him were shooting curious and cold glances at him, studying him. He'd been the new kid for most of his life and knew the things that they were thinking, no matter if the school were normal or magical. They had assessed him on his looks, deciding that he was a weakling, a wimp.

"Who is she?" "It's a guy?" "A doll…"

He wanted to escape their gazes and unpack his things, but Professor Snape had only brought him this far. He had no clue where his dorm was, or what bed would be his. How he'd find out by night he wasn't sure, but he'd have to. Surely someone would tell him by then.

And his father was there. With an uncle he'd never met, a relative on his mother's side.

"Ryou Bakura?" A crisp voice broke into his thoughts. Glancing up, he found a tall, maroon-eyed boy with brown-blonde hair frowning down at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Swallowing, Ryou nodded, shifting his grip on his knees. "Hai-_Yes_." He swallowed again, hunching closer to the legs he clutched.

"I'm Blaise Zabini," the youth introduced himself, frown still apparent despite his relaxing expression. "C'mon, I'm supposed to show you where the common room will be."

Ryou nodded again and stood, lifting his doll and clutching it close. The other boy led him down the staircase with the arched door case, passing several detours before turning to one on the left, and taking this separate stairway into a chamber rich in green curtains and elegant beds donning the symbol of their house: a serpent.

"_This_ is the Sixth year dorms." Blaise Zabini told him, giving the doll in his arms a dismayed look. Ryou, not caring what the other felt, only held the small child closer. Those blue eyes still burned within his mind, innocent as her laugh and smile. She'd be scared, and he didn't want to make her feel alone.

He didn't pretend to know why his spirit did what he did.

Directing him to his bed and delivering one last appalled glance to him and his doll, the other boy left him there.

Gently rocking the small doll lying in his arms, Ryou walked over to the bed he had been assigned and laid her down on the silken comforter. "I'll be back with you soon, I promise," he comforted her.

Moving to the bags left by the foot of his bed, Ryou knelt and opened the one containing the others. He gently removed them one at a time, stroking back their hair, feeling it out to make sure it was devoid of knots. When one needed combing, he did it, taking care not to tear any out. When each one passed inspection, he set it out alongside his bed, creating an imperfect circle of dolls leaning against it. Their individual expressions of terror and anguish, shock and hopelessness would be a ward against any who would come too close.

When the last two were settled into their respective places, Ryou climbed onto his bed, careful not to displace the five resting at its foot, and cradled the little one once more, his white hair spilling onto her still face.

Softly, a lullaby he'd once upon a time listened to his mother sing he and Amane whispered from his lips, shushing the despair he knew that she felt. She had to, for _he_ felt the same.

He was still seated in the bed much later, curtains finally drawn and wondering what would become of his life now, with a new world he'd never heard of before smothering everything he'd understood of what he'd thought of the world. Everyone dressed so strange here, robed as what he'd thought to be a cult had been. Was that what this was, even with the size and veins spreading from the blackened heart of its unpalatable centre. Death seemed to roll wherever these went, even in the place where he'd been taken by those freeing him from the cruel snake-man's prison.

Screams had been even there. Women and men had been misshapen and disfigured by these cruel forces worked by the followers of this arcane way.

Laughing voices woke Ryou from his melancholic musings. They sounded so happy outside of his curtained enclosure, just like Yugi and his friends were. Ryou wondered what laughing like that, without hidden welts muting your joy, would feel like. There was little that amused him anymore. Cynical thoughts could bring phantom smiles to his lips and the odd sight could free from him a laugh, but that was all smoke and mirrors, futile attempts his spirit made to show he still lived.

He had so many questions, but didn't feel it was his place to ask them of either teacher or fellow student. Those now laughing outside the curtains would probably think him stupid for not knowing any of the knowledge that they likely took for granted.

Worrying was foolish. He should be sleeping. Tomorrow was going to be trying, going out into this town his newfound uncle had told him about to buy things that sounded derived from a play. He felt better now, physically, but not enough to peer beyond this false shelter.

The door to the dorm opened. Swishing from long robes swept from the entrance to his own bed, a silence descending upon the room it passed through. Ryou looked up as his curtains were parted and found Professor Snape looking down at him, offering the chalice held loosely in his hand. "Drink this, Mr. Bakura," the man ordered simply. "It will help you to sleep."

Accepting the trust he felt for this man, Ryou took the chalice and drank deep. Then there was nothing but a hazy warmth filling his stomach and soft quilts being pulled over him.

End Ch.9

Another hunk edited!

__

Responses To Reviewers: I just want to thank everyone sooooo much! I've heard that people were having stories deleted because of reviewer responses on them, so I'm afraid I'm too cowardly to post them anymore. Let me just assure you hat I'm grateful. Especially your amazing job, Shi-koi! It's amazing how much detail you go into! You, Inspector, Eden's Echo and the quick Antago are a big part of this new chapter being posted! And Yami Arow, no fear! I'm going to continue. Thanks! As for you, Eden's Echo, I loved ALL of your reviews! Do it as many times as you want! Winks Oh dear. I'm going to have to get a site to post my replies on someday.

Anyway, thanks: Elfie-chan,tenshiamanda,kandra,Opal Shadow,Shi-koi,The Inspector, Slight Imperfections,Antago Edem (Sorry, had to add your name here too! Winks),Dark-necrophhia666,Yukina89 ,Nicki,Karasea,tamashiipurizuma,mystic bunny piper ,Yami Arow,Eden's Echo,Grey Candle,legendary bunny ,Amarin Rose,shrowded angel ),Geminidragon,NekoKatakura !!

Uh… Anyone still interested in this? Silly Grins

Please, Pleeeeease Let me Know Something Þ


	12. And Your Choices

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/n: I borrowed some Shakespeare for this but I doubt anyone will mind. It amused me XD

To any who haven't read MacBeth, you can tell what it is by the italics. I sure don't own it, either.

Chapter 12 And Your Choices

Ryou awoke on the tail end of a sneeze. Rubbing his raw nose, he yawned, wondering at the stiffened muscles in his back. An eternity spend tense surrounded by horrendous corpses played themselves before his eyelids in indistinct images polluted with a sheen of sickly green.

An unrelenting body of wood dug into his chest where he clung to it-to _her_. She must have crawled into his arms as he slept…It was okay, with her there no nightmares had plagued either of them. Instead, figments of forgotten dreams of salt-dried grass cutting at his ankles lent a weak warmth to his ill body. He wished he could remember more than the hints of a darkening dusk sky and the missed pain teasing his lower legs. Faces belonged there, not a dying sky.

Saliva kept building up in his mouth, fleeing from the rolling acid in his stomach. The urge to gag was increasing the longer he remained awake, souring the taste in his breath. Ryou didn't mind feeling ill. It was feeling, something he didn't allow himself to do except in dreams of the past. When he was sick it was harder for his body to fight the dusk settled around it, leaving him to be at peace in a dim world he preferred to one where he would be fighting his Spirit's rule.

Bakura's opaque body emerged from the vacant air, twisted to lay as a leisurely snake eyeing his light predatorily through half-lidded eyes. It was the false-form mirroring Ryou that he was using, sparing his shadowed spirit from being rooted to any physical manifestation in a time when it would need to be dissolved before any use could be gleaned from it. This form adopted youth with its false visage, the one that awoke in Ryou less fear than the true form with its man's body and tale-telling scars.

"You're letting the past get to you," the shadow taunted. Rubbing sleep from his light-sensitive eyes, Ryou gave a timid smile in return.

"Good morning, Bakura-sama," he murmured around a yawn. The only answer to this was a derisive snort.

Ryou indulged in a moment of insane longing to shove the spirit off the edge of the bed-insane because he would never survive the attempt. A tremulous smile slipped free at the imagining of the startled squawk the spirit would give from such a surprise attack. Only the all-to-real crunching of bones lessened the effect, a result that would undoubtedly follow such a transgression.

It wasn't wise to focus on thoughts like that, really. A soft growl vibrated in his spirit's chest, warning him to cease his irritating musings. Ryou's amusement died.

"Gomen-nasai, Bakura-sama," he mumbled, ignoring the threatening heave in his stomach. There was silence outside the curtains, telling him that the children that had been milling about before he'd slept had gone elsewhere. Probably to classes, since this was supposed to be a school.

The phantom stroked the smooth line of his nose with cool, half-transparent fingertips, drifting on in the caress to his cheek and chin. Ryou lay still and submissive beneath these attentions, only the digging of his fingers into the emerald sheets betraying how his heart threatened to burst in wake of the spirit's indecisive move. When petting came to an end, violence could easily follow.

But Bakura merely tapped his bottom lip twice. "Good boy." Then the touching ceased without the causing of pain, its threat past.

The tranquil atmosphere was seared by an awakening memory of screams that sent Ryou lurching onto his side to clutch his ears against sounds they weren't hearing. Visions from the night before played out before his mind's eye in vivid detail he couldn't escape. He grit his teeth tightly against the whine quivering in his throat, tears of pain trickling down his cheeks in his effort to suppress it all. He didn't want to remember. Why did he have to remember?

'Make it go away', he begged his mind with emotion replacing word. He was trembling, curled in on himself and crushing the wooden body once more as his knees dug her into his tender chest with unforgiving force. It scared him that he couldn't even feel the pain.

Shadows trickling into his mind from a hand suddenly pressed against his forehead dulled the scenes Ryou witnessed until there remained little more within than the playing of shadows against one another. It was a drug for his mind, numbing the fear and pain that had before put explosive pressure on his skull. Ryou's muscles went lax as the flow lessened, dribbling to a stop. No more were needed in the pleasant daze blanketing his mind.

The door to the dorm opened. Pushing himself into a sitting position, blanket spilling into his lap, Ryou listened as the steps came towards his bed. He recognized the sound, but wasn't sure from where until the curtains were pushed open and he came face to face with a dour Professor Snape donning long black robes not unlike the snake-man's cultists.

"You're up, I see," the man greeted crossly.

"Good morning, Snape-sen-" he swallowed at the haughty look. "Professor Snape." His other half tucked his hands behind his head, an unknown observer looking on with feigned interest. Ryou wasn't fooled. His spirit could care less what the mortal wanted.

Severus Snape's response to his greeting was unnervingly akin to his spirit's own snort. "Up, Mr. Bakura," the man ordered, but these words seemed somehow gentler than the harsh voice issuing them. "We have things to do."

Up Ryou went, sliding from the bed without dislodging any of the dolls. He never noticed that he still held the fragile blond in his arms until the slick-haired professor turned again and lifted her from his arms, placing her on his rumpled sheets. A blush of embarrassment covered Ryou's cheeks. He was sixteen now, too old for a boy to be seen cuddling dolls, but the man didn't make any snide comments. He just set the long robe next to the doll that Ryou hadn't noticed draped over his long arm and turned his back to him in an offer of privacy.

"Dress yourself, Mr. Bakura," were the only words he spoke. Ryou hastily exchanged the robes and, folding his borrowed clothing, rested them on the opposite side of the wooden body than the new ones had been left on. His spirit watched the two with continued amusement, reading their movements with a satisfaction in ancient, shadowed eyes just out of the weak light's grasp. The feel of the eyes made him pick up his pace in dressing, hastily placing a barrier of cloth between he and those amber eyes.

Snape-sensei didn't share the discomfort. He couldn't feet the burning gaze that slid from he to his student with studied patience. Lucky him. Ryou's spirit shriveled when his darkness' eyes gained that indulgent gleam. It meant plans were formed that the phantom was allowing to lye dormant for a time, that something of interest and possible value was waiting to be unearthed beneath the sandy drifts of unfamiliarity obscuring the desired knowledge from view-for a time.

Professor Snape took Ryou first to a great kitchen accessed by tickling a ripe pear in the painting outside it. The hallways of the stone castle were wonders he'd been incapable of admiring the night before. Paintings lined each gray wall, their animated scenes dwelt in by live subjects who ignored, greeted, or gossiped according to each ones character. It was a wonder that the teacher permitted his gawking and being side-tracked, with only a bland, "They'll still be there later, Mr. Bakura," to spur him on now and again.

Behind them, the spirit stalked the halls disinterestedly, sparing the odd sneer at a portrait to send its occupants scattering. The tomb robber, as always, was harder to please than his host.

It was again a different world when, following Professor Snape, they stepped through the hatch beneath the painting into the sunny kitchen. Heat from many fires lent a merry warmth to the air, as did scents of baking bread, roasting meat, and too many savory spices fused so tightly together it was impossible to name more than a few. Tables stretched before him, long and full, as well, but his attention went around these to the creatures tending those fires and preparing that food.

"House-elves," the man ahead of him supplied distastefully. Ryou wondered why he spoke so, especially with what it seemed these house-creatures were capable of, but he was too entranced with watching the wrinkly, brightly-clothed creatures work to voice a question, especially since, he reflected uncomfortably, it would likely offend the man who was being so kind to him.

He took his cues from the Professor and sat next to him at the table when the other took a chair. Several of the olive-brown creatures scampered over as they did so, huge eyes bright as they chirped out their greetings and desires to help them. The slick-haired man waved them away with a cold glare, demanding only for a plate-which were instantly given. This was handed to Ryou.

Ryou gazed at this blankly until the man turned the glare onto _him_. "We haven't all day," the teacher snapped. "Eat something. That _woman_", this said as if there were several _other_ terms the man would prefer to use in reference to her, "wants to have a look at you before we leave for your supplies."

Figuring it best not to question who 'that woman' was, Ryou took up a still hot bun to eat. Sickness from earlier that morning reared its ugly head, but, grimacing in pain, he took his cue from the heating glare still directed his way from the teacher, plus a derisive snort from the transparent spirit, and took a tentative bite.

He was generously allowed a moment to feel himself in control before the ancient spirit glared and ordered him to take meat.Dutifully, heselected a few slivers off one of the roasts lying in wait upon a steel platter. Beef, without the heavy sauces the other meats were glazed in. And, fork in hand, he picked at his chosen meal, resting the soft bun on the plate next to the meat. Strangely, he found himself feeling better for the heavier food going into his stomach.

No sooner was the meat finished than the teacher was ordering him to his feet and leading him through the corridors at a brisk walk. Their path was as crooked as the one before, Ryou dogging the professor's heels in fear of being lost in the maze, and he was well out of breath when they came to a door Professor Snape shoved open.

The room within was long, lit by many windows letting in late morning light, with sterile white beds lining the back wall. One had a small girl curled in its center, tangled in bright yarn and fighting to knit without moving an obviously sore arm too much, but all the others were empty. An older woman, grayed with age, turned as they entered and smiled widely. "I was expecting you two," she said by way of greeting, and Ryou barely had time to catch the tightening of the Professor's lips before 'that _woman_' whisked him over to a crisp-sheeted bed.

He'd been nervously expecting the waving of her wand, but, instead, she fussed over him with a sad, sweet little smile, her eyes alight with something he couldn't place. "Rebecca's child! Look how you've grown. And aren't you a darling…" He didn't look much like his mother. Or his father. He should eat more. Was he getting rest now? He shouldn't be on his feet too much-and all of this came before she did anything more than _look_ at him!

Sitting stiff on the medical bed, Ryou ignored the sneer on his other's face that came before he vanished into the ring beneath Ryou's black robe.

"Don't you _dare_ wear this delicate child out, Severus."

"Get on with it, woman. We have places to be."

Ryou barely caught his gasp at the nasty speech, but all the plump woman did was humph and turn back to face him. "Could you sit very still for a moment, Mr.Bakura, please?"

The checkup didn't take long, and Ryou was released, pronounced fit enough of mind and body to be let out of doors, before the two adults could work their way into a fight.

They came to be in a strange little strip of town after a horrible trip through a fireplace that had brought Ryou near to tears. Standing in a _lit_ fireplace, spinning through a rapid succession of homes blurred by the thousands of others in passage, tumbling out, dirt-smudged, into a sprawl on cold stone that he couldn't even get up from with his legs tangled in the too-long robe…

Their first stop came as a shock to Ryou, more so with the knowledge that he _could_ still be surprised. Professor Snape brought him to a stop outside a green building, battered sign ancient and pealing next to the decorative buildings to either side. It read Olivander's, broadcasting a long linage of this family for their craft. Really, it looked as if it hadn't had any upkeep since the boasted year.

His thoughts of fleeing were nipped in the bud when, with a sigh much akin to the one before the nurse's ward, his tall escort led him in, pausing with the door open and a dark glance long enough for him to shuffle through behind.

It was like stepping through a gate in time. Even before the bustle outside could be muffled by the closing of the door, he had trouble hearing it for the sheer _silence_ in the store. It looked as abandoned as a crypt, the only light from without filtered through heavily dusted windows that couldn't have seen the side of even a filthy rag in decades. He let his eyes roam, chewing on his lip as he silently wondered if his Professor had made a mistake, until a tiny, wrinkled man stepped silently from the rows of boxes. Like the villain of a late movie, the man closed in the distance slowly, eyes fastened, unblinking, on his own until he stood before he and the professor.

"Never did I expect _you_ would be through these doors, not since your year came with no mention of you," were the first words spoken. One chalky finger stroked a lock of his pearly hair, paying no heed to Ryou's flinching. "I should have known better. It would be folly to lose the Dumbledore line to the _other_ world. You belong to _us_."

Those words were a direct challenge to the spirit's nature and Ryou's body tensed in preparation of the anger and possession he expected to follow within his mind, but no response was made and his control of his body went unchecked. It was Professor Snape who stepped to his rescue, dark eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Isn't there something you should be doing," he snarled levelly, "or shall we take our business elsewhere?"

The old man tsked, turning at the end of those words, and drifted down a narrow alcove in the dusty stacks of rectangular boxes. Fingers trailed over the crooked rows nearest him. His passage stirred up hazy cloud that ticked Ryou's nose and made him sneeze.

"Still impatient, of course. Dried flesh of drake and pine, a nice combination for strength in defense and quick in response. A shame you let it waste with potions, but then, that is your true calling is it not?"

Hadn't the professor told him he was the chemistry teacher at Mr. Dumbledore's school? Was this a lie, too, or was he, of faded skin and crooked teeth, mocking the science teacher and degrading his post with the hinting at it being a woman's task?

Only, this made no sense. Many men cooked, and, besides this, the common stereotypical term 'men of science' was held true. When one thought of chemistry, was it with the vision of a woman donning long white frocks with awkward goggles-

Anzu's influence, he mused wryly, roping the train of thought in and focusing on what he meant to be considering. Chemistry _was_ the mixing of chemicals, like with potions. Different labels, same thing.

But doubt butted its head against this insight with force lent from the fact that they were here to buy him a _wand_. For the unknown that was the school his uncle was Headmaster of. Remembrance of Malik playing with one at the snake-man's lounge dug nails of ice into the crook of his back. If such was necessary for this breed of schooling, what _would_ they be trying to teaching him there?

It was a wizarding school. He'd heard it time and again now. Only, why couldn't he see it as a Houdini-type training center?

The man's papery hands pressed stick after stick into his, ordering him to swish each before snatching it away and mumbling to himself. Wand after wand was tried and failed, until he doubted that any there would be of use.

"Not to worry, not to worry," Olivander graced him with upon noticing his unease. "This is perfectly normal." But if that were so, why did he keep reaching up to rub his temples behind the legs of his thick glasses? Even Professor Snape was showing signs of wear, seated heavily on a chair that sounded as if it were on its last legs. Still, those dark, onyx eyes were trained on the old one as he bobbed between Ryou and the stacks of boxes.

When they finally came down to the right one, there was a curious light in the man's eyes that scared him. "Yes, yes," the old one muttered, a creepy smirk quirking cracked lips. "Made in darker days, this was. I see they're coming again. No need, no, but it has to be tried. That's my way, no need to change now." There was an age to the box that made it stand out against the others close to them. These near the front were newer, obviously, with boxes that showed no sign yet of the cracks working through what the gnarled hand now clutched. Did the teacher behind him just growl…?

Inside a box unlined with cotton, a stick like the others was plucked from its empty roost and held in offer to Ryou. Tentatively eyeing the silver veins in the wand offered him, Ryou reached out and took it. There were no words for what happened next. He felt it deep in his chest, the connection the false-fronted flimsy stick made with his blood, and his spirit's belated acceptance once it was clear there was no closing them from its seal.

Ryou was still shaken when the Professor led him from the shop back into the busy streets they'd left. Whatever closing words he'd been imparted with were lost to his mind, but that was fine. Those eyes… He never wanted to be gazed at by them again. Whatever had been meant by that cryptic greeting, he didn't care to look into. They were alive, out of that tomb. Let_ him_ stay dead with the row upon row of caskets.

A snarled comment over his head brought Ryou back to the present to find his teacher glaring at a young woman across from them. The hand on Ryou's shoulder tightened slightly as the woman quavered an apology for something and scampered off. Strange, he found, that a few glanced their way and hurried off with a look at the slick-haired teacher.

The next store they entered had a much more comfortable feel than the one where they purchased his wand. It looked a lot like _any_ book store did, and it was a great comfort. Until then, he'd doubted his being able to relax until he was returned to his dorm and the privacy of his bed. It was a roomy store, packed full of books but with isles wide enough to let at least three walk abreast. A woman with thick brown hair, conversing behind the counter with an obviously difficult co-worker, glanced their way and dismissed them before he could get a decent look at her face. The taller, thicker fellow across from her, however, wasn't faring as well.

"I didn't _mean_ it, honest! They were, well, old school chums. They just wanted a _peek_-"

"Lee!" And off she went, shrill of tongue and with arms flung this way and that until it was a wonder the shelves behind her, for ornamental purposes more than likely, didn't lose more than a few of the sported dusty old tomes.

His professor sneered, dark eyes rolling, and then pointed him to a tall shelf that didn't look much different than the rest. Curious now that he was in what couldn't be a dangerous place-how could a book be dangerous?-and always having been a lover of books, Ryou went where he was sent. Or, at least, started to. On a nearby shelf he noticed a large green tome amid the mutilated remains of what might have been similar items at one time. Perplexed at why someone would shred so many books and why the store owners would leave them there (was this what the woman was so angry about?), he reached over to pluck the survivor up to see what it was when Professor Snape whirled on him and slapped away his hand.

An instant later, the innocent-looking book's razor teeth snapped over where his hand had been with a gnashing that sounded and looked like it could maim. Gaping in astonished relief, he barely had the sense of mind to look abashed when the teacher snapped, "Pay attention, Mr. Bakura, lest you want to lose yourself some fingers." For a second Ryou felt indignant that the man would assume him to know what to and what not to touch, but that evaporated into embarrassment as soon as he saw the warning sign hung from the shelf just above where he'd been looking. This and its actions explained perfectly why the thing looked so sated on its conquered shelf.

He didn't wait for the order but went where he was supposed to silently. There he let the other stack different books in his arms until he had to lift his chin over the pile or risk knocking a few down when he turned to get another peek at those strange green books. 'Monster book of Monsters' he read this time, and winced as the beastly thing gave a snooty snap in his direction.

When the professor finally finished and their intended purchases were resting on the counter of the store in front of an uncomfortable looking woman (why did everyone act like chastised ten-yr-olds when faced with this intimidating man, Ryou wondered), he was ordered to go 'pick out some foolish thing to read, else Albus get a chance to say he was behaving poorly'. Ryou tried to back out of the order politely, but it didn't work.

With an uncertain glance at the scowling man, he made his way to the opposite side of the room from the green book and, perusing the covers and shelves thoroughly to be sure he couldn't lose a limb from its occupant, he selected a new-looking book entitled 'In Night's Shadows'. Though dark, it looked innocent compared to the green _thing_ he was avoiding. It spoke of what beasts prowled where one never expected, offering information on beasts he'd never heard of when he looked at its flap. But it was the cover that caught his eye, a stringy-haired being encased in shadow with closed eyes and skeletal hands.

A banshee, he hazarded a guess, but then reconsidered. As he gazed down, the heavy book warm in his ever-cold hands, the eyes slid partially open to reveal yellow slits before shutting. Fighting a shiver, he responded to his companion's irritated shifting by returning to him with the book barely a minute after being sent to look. There was a disinterested look at his book, a muttered 'fitting', then it was plucked from him and added to the pile of purchases. Gold traded hands with a soft, "Thank you, Professor" from the girl and they left, each with half of the parcels.

Again, the crowd on the walkway seemed to almost part for them and in little time they were stepping into a new store, this one brightly lit and even more brightly painted. There more items were chosen, including an arm-achingly heavy cauldron, a dozen or so vials, and other puzzling things he found it best not to think about. As they were exiting, his guide ignored an excited greeting from a gangly woman with buck teeth and banana-yellow hair and told him it was time to eat.

When they were seated at a table in a crowded pub to supper, it was obvious Professor Snape was setting aside comfort for the sake of matters he obviously felt needed to be addressed. Sending the woman, Rosmerta?, off with a critical perusing of the menus and a demand for two orders of soup and sandwich, the man cleared his throat and faced down his current charge. "I'm sorry your experiences with our world have been what they had to be, Mr. Bakura," was his stiff beginning. "However, a war is going on that you, like or not, are a part of. Measures for your protection will have to be taken-more, obviously, than previously employed. For one, using discretion with your fellow students would be prudent."

Lowing his gaze to the older man's hands, Ryou gave a soft, "Hai" that was quickly replaces by an English assent. The man wouldn't know that watching his words with those around him was something he was more accustomed to than breathing. Nor did he plan to speak with those around him more than he had to. It would be nice, having a friend again, but not worth the danger he'd be placing them in.

"Others you will be informed of later, at a better time, but I wanted to be sure you understood this one. There are dangerous times, and even a friend can be your death." Here the eyes darkened in distaste, lowering to take in the enormous robes all but swallowing him, with sleeves rolled back in preparation for the food that was soon to arrive. "As for our next stop, we will be picking up some items for my classes then moving on and purchasing some decent robes for you. A pity they will not be done today. I hardly want a student in my house to wander around so distastefully, but we'll have to make do with what we have for now. However, there are students with robes more fitting than _that_ to your size."

* * *

Eugene Bakura made it through lessons that day with no little trepidation. His son was in this school, or would be soon if he'd already left to purchase supplies for study with the long-fingered professor. There was no way to avoid his son now that he'd been rescued, ending the respite he had to prepare himself for what he could do about…_ them_.

They were with the boy again now, of course. They belonged to Becca's son and he wasn't going to withhold them from him. He couldn't very well do that, could he? It meant facing this situation prematurely. No, it wasn't time. He wasn't going to ask his son about … _them_. He wasn't going to mention _them_. Or the situation. Or anything that had and would happen. Ryou was safe, that cleared up any and all issues or misgivings that were stirred by his brief entrance into this world and the things it had awakened his awareness to.

The fears and doubts had faded after he'd finally found a way to sleep after dwelling hour upon hour on the sobbing boy who'd been brought to Albus' office the night before. No, he told himself now, he needn't even see the boy. Not really. Becca's son was safe, alive, so he could return to work.

Their child was so small and pale. Like a ghost, really. Men dying had looked healthier of flesh than that slim lad now in the prime years of his life. But this school would see to fixing that, of course. It was what school was for, keeping discipline in a boy's life while looking after them. Yes, Becca needn't fear for her boy's health anymore. All would be fine and he could now return to Egypt with a clear conscience.

Discoveries may be being made in his absence and he loathed the thought of falling behind the others in his circle. Eugene had worked hard and long to gain the acquaintances who kept him in high prestige among others of lesser standing in his line. An archeologist of his station, a linguist of his status, couldn't commit occupational suicide! He'd go to Becca's uncle after this very class, the last of the day, and tell the man it was time he left. The boy didn't need him now, he was well used to looking after himself-good at it, even, Eugene was sure. After all, hadn't Ryou already been doing it for years?

But… Tomorrow would be better. He could wait for tomorrow to see the headmaster.

* * *

It was darkening out by the time they left the pub, and Ryou was exhausted from the day's events, but the professor showed no sign of strain in his shortened gate. The longish-haired teacher hadn't been pleased with the small bit he'd managed to eat, but he'd apologized, pleading an unsettled stomach, and there'd been a flicker of something different than annoyance in those dark eyes when the man had dropped the topic.

Struggling to keep up with the slower pace and not drop to the cement and sleep there, Ryou shifted his heavy parcels and eyed the wooden building his guide was concentrating on. He almost missed it when the man began speaking.

"This is our first stop. Touch _nothing_! I want your hands on the parcels at all times, and you to stay away from what's on the shelves. Without basic knowledge in potions or the ability to pay attention to signs, you're liable to poison yourself."

Flushing, Ryou ducked his head and followed him into the chosen store. What it reminded him of more than anything was a produce market, the wooden planking of the floor too widely placed to keep dust from piling up in the cracks from the booted feet, and its earthy smell only spoiled by the heavy odors of items far less pleasant than what would be dug from the earth. Despite the harsh warnings, he found his eyes drawn from bin to bin and wandered from the professor's side to have a look at what was around him. Without touching it, of course.

"Touch it", the man snapped from a short distance away as Ryou crept closer to what looked like nothing more than a mangled corpse in a long, high-priced bin, "and your father will find himself childless upon my return."

"Ano…"

The Professor half-turned from the lumps of brown puss-excreting worms and bodily parts, quirking one elegant black eyebrow in sign for him to continue. Ryou did, shifting the weighted items in his arms. "I have a sister," he explained, more than half of his attention on the horrid-looking thing in front of him.

Snape had been turning back to the merchandise and his back stiffened, careful hands stilling. "Why is she not here?"

Ryou continued his study of the un-tagged creature, answering distractedly, "She stayed in England." Why, he wondered, didn't it say what it was? It should, since the thing cost a fortune in that peculiar currency. He missed the narrowing of the man's eyes and the pressing of the pale, thin lips as the man went to make his selection.

He did, however, notice that the professor remained distracted the entire time the woman in the robe shop measured him and pinned material before shooing them off and promising to have them sent up as soon as they were done. Unsure what he could have done wrong, but not doubting he'd done something worthy of this silence and thought, Ryou did his best to be silent and unobtrusive until their return through the fireplace they'd used that morning.

Ryou knocked, left at the headmaster's door by Professor Snape after further assistance was deemed unnecessary, and was called in by the cheerful voice of the elderly headmaster. In he went, swallowing a rising lump of nerves obstructing his own greeting, then gave it before coming into view. "Good evening, sir."

The phoenix was watching Bakura with its bright eyes and Ryou kept glancing at it uneasily as he entered, turning his attention to the headmaster only when appropriate while keeping an eye on the beast from the corner of his own. The ancient tomb robber had stopped at the door, out of Ryou's view now that those bright blue eyes were pinning him there

Dumbledore beamed.

"Fawkes has caught your eye, has he?" The old one smiled brightly and held out an arm beckoningly towards the extraordinary creature roosting on his golden perch. It instantly turned from Bakura to soar over to the old one's arm and settle there like a docile dove, wings tucking in and eyes now boring into Ryou. He wished it would look back to the spirit, taking those eyes as penetrating as its owner's away from him and the sins he couldn't hide from it. Still, there was kind light in the deep gaze, and he found himself reaching towards it despite his misgivings.

The spirit came closer, keeping Ryou between he and the phoenix. "It's a bird of fire. A dangerous beast. _Don't_ touch it."

Ryou jerked back before his fingers made contact with the cocked head and its golden plumage, flushing a dark red beneath his uncle's startled gaze. In response, the creature ruffled its feathers and canted its head more to the other side, releasing a gentle trill before turning sharp eyes back onto the phantom over his shoulder. An accusing glare, it looked to him. As if the thief had foiled its plans…

His uncle glanced between he and the bird intently, trying to peer beyond the scene into what spurred this sudden withdrawal. "Fawkes is gentle, Ryou. He won't hurt you," the old one told him kindly, "Indeed, he seems to like you."

"A bird of the sun is _not_ gentle," Bakura snapped, glaring at the placid bird with a ferocity that raced a shiver down his host's neck. "Keep away from it."

"What-" Wincing, Ryou finished mentally, 'What would it do?' Locked in a glaring contest with the bird of myth, his spirit ignored him.

"What would you like to know, son?" His uncle took the unfinished words for a retracted question, and why shouldn't he? 'Sorry, sir. I was talking to the invisible spirit behind me,' wasn't a plausible excuse.

"Nothing, sir," he murmured instead, and turned his eyes away from the bird of gold, shifting it to the hat that he recognized on the shelf behind the headmaster's desk. It looked a lot rattier than it did in his memory, but he'd been so shaken then that it was a wonder he even remembered it. Then again, a talking hat _did_ have a way with sticking in one's memory no matter what came before. At least, he figured it must. How many times could one ever see a hat _talk_!

"Ah. Well. I hope your journey into Diagon Alley was enjoyable? I'm sure you got a chance to see many things you've never before had occasion to think existed."

Despite himself, Ryou felt a real smile grace his lips, something that hadn't been there in a long time. With the smile rose a ticklish sensation in his chest. Happiness? Anzu, once, had said something about how even a forced smile stir feelings of contentment inside. Trust her to be right on a fact like that.

"I did enjoy it, Headmaster," Ryou answered shyly, ducking his head when he realized he'd been staring. The old man waved away those words with a wrinkled hand.

"Such formality isn't for family, child. Uncle will do. Or, if you must, Uncle Albus," he instructed. "I'd like it if you'd save the Headmaster and Professor Dumbledoring for formal occasions." Ryou glanced up curiously and caught the man's wink. A thread of warmth wound around his heart at the simple gesture. It'd been a long time, a voice deep inside whispered, since anyone had cared to be his family. Realizing the vulnerability this warmth opened in him, Ryou quickly adverted his gaze.

It wasn't easy for him to avoid his uncle's compassionate blue eyes. All the generous man wanted was answers, but they were ones Ryou couldn't give no matter how much he wanted to. The ring of gold around his neck could destroy anyone, no matter how strong or spirited-all to easily it could destroy an old man with body wizened in age.

"Ryou, please tell me what happened. You're supposed to be safe now, away from those who would hurt you. Tom can't reach you within these walls. I promise that what you tell will be kept secret if it is what you wish."

He could tell him some, couldn't he, Ryou wondered, looping the strands of hair he clutched around his finger again and tugging unconsciously.

"If something were to happen to you, Ryou, think how your father would feel. What would the death of his only child do to him?"

When he died, what would happen to his _father_? Nothing, really, of that he could be sure. Eugene Bakura didn't live in the same life or world that he did, nor did the Archaeologist want to. His father knew more than anyone else how dead his son was, and he alone respected that this was not his decision to make. Nor was it _his own_ choice, not truly, but that was an entirely different matter.

Ryou had never lived, anyway, so how could he die? And his father only lived in days that were dead, so why would a loss so far after the days in which he dwelt even touch his life? Ancient Egypt ruled both of their worlds, yet each stood upon separate banks of the Nile: Ryou, with his spirit from the past, was a tool towards the future of the old one's archaic goals; his father, born of this age, did all in his power to shroud himself in the dusty ruins and submerse his mind in a past he'd never know. In his father's world, a son wouldn't be born for millennia.

Sometimes, it seemed his father already felt he was dead-in body and mind as well as in spirit. But, if that were really so, why was the man even _here?_

"What's on your mind, Ryou?" The old one pressed gently. The man took too much in. Ryou wondered whether this thought came from himself or the dark spirit running an incorporeal hand over the bizarre objects lining the shelves.

"Why is Father here?" The words escaped his mouth, freed by those blue eyes, before he could stop them.

Silence lay still before the answer came. "You were missing. When he was told, he insisted on being here. He was worried, as were we all."

Confusion drew an all too familiar line over Ryou's brow. "But there was nothing he could do," he pointed out. "And I've never known any of you."

Something that might have been pity entered those blue eyes at his words and Ryou was again unable to look away. "Even so, any father wishes to be near when there is danger to his son, no matter how little he can do to change things. And, as for I, my memory still cherished the little boy Rebecca brought to us on her last visit. We might not have been as close as I'd like, necessity saw to that, but I always cared."

An old hand caressed the phoenix when it gave a soft trill. "But it is late, and Severus waits at my door to speak with me. Go to bed, Ryou." A sad, whimsical smile was given to him and Ryou pulled it to his heart with those strange words. It was an odd warmth they gave him, an uncomfortable comfort to a wound he hadn't known to hurt.

"Goodnight, sir." Ryou gave a small bow and fled before anything more unfamiliar could happen. As he passed through the door, Snape entered, closing the door with a pointed click at his back.

* * *

He wasted no time facing down his mentor, assured by the boy's haste that he wouldn't be pausing on the threshold to the office.

"Albus," he brooked accusingly, "the boy says he has a sister back in England. Why was she left? Squib or no, could she not be in danger as well?" His words were sharper than he'd intended but the old man gave him no rebuke for the abrupt greeting. Instead, his aged face went pale as clay.

"My boy… My dear boy," Albus's voice wavered with shock. Of all that his colleague could have demanded of him, this was the least expected. "I'm sorry…" Gazing at the young man's blazing dark eyes, condemning in wrongful accusation, concern creased Albus'  
face. "Rebecca's daughter died with her in the automobile accident years ago. Ryou has no sister who lives."

* * *

That night, Ryou lay pulled close by Bakura while the closed curtains encased them in their shadows. Around them the dolls kept their perpetually silent vigil. A line from an old poem tickled against what thoughts lay in a mind suspended between sleep and waking:

/For a charm of powerful trouble,   
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble./

End Ch. 12

I. Am. SOOOOO. Sorry!

This really isn't what I wanted of this chapter, but I don't dare put it off any longer! Again, I'm so, so sorry. It isn't as good as I'd like it to be, I haven't gone over it enough and I doubt it's smooth enough, but if I let myself inspect it closely I know I'll grimace, grumble, and never let you all see it. I'll do my best to make up for this in the next chapter! I was trying to get a few things across in this and, instead, I think I bungled it up even more. Still, at least I updated before December? Heh…

Yeah. Feel free to flame, I guess, but please give me a reason for it! I need to know what to improve on if you're to like my story.

__

Special Thanks To:

(I'm terrified of missing someone, so I'll do by top of page first! Mkay? The first to review are closest to the bottom!)

Tsukiko- Thank you! S Don't worry, I'll be continuing. I'm just…eh…slow… Rima, albinoyaoi - I'm soooooo sorry!! Yukina89, sadistic introvert, MeowKit, Mintvee, Eden's Echo-… hehe… Sorry? Hey! Your review actually spurred me towards writing this, so thank you! Without you, this never would have happened XD I am SO holding you to that promise of not caring how bad it is! NekoKatakura, Koriaena, Shrowdedangel, Inarae-hehe… Hi? katie-chan- ice cream given! But not in my story, sorry : ), Mai, NekoKatakura, AikoNamika, Lexandria -I try my best, but I don't think I always hit it right on. Yukina89, legendary bunny - Aw!! Karasea, Lyn/Lin-Ouch! I feel so guilty whenever I read the review! When I read all of them, too… classical-storyteller, Nicki - Quite a different reaction to them, actually! Yami hitokiri … Do I still get candy? DarkFire180-Thanks! Khaleoud Sengir, Tamashiipurizuma… Sorry! Maruken - I'm glad you had fun! Here's a chapter for you! Lily of the Shadow, Opal Shadow , The Inspector - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!, pippy32388 and Kerei Kitsune - Also, soooo sorry!

I hope I got you all! If I missed someone, leave kicks in a review? XD

And… Um… Forgive me?

Please, Pleeeeease Review This so I Know it's not too Late


	13. So Little They Seem

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/n: This chapter should be better. I enjoyed writing what I did out on paper, and I hope you enjoy what it turned into!

Chapter 13 So Little They Seem

The haven of his curtained bed was invaded all to soon by the emergence from night into morning. Bitter words and playful banter took over the silence he'd clung to after awaking some hours ago. As the sounds grew, Bakura deserted him for the ring and he sat up, stretching his arms and worrying over what he should do. Professor Snape had told him that classes would begin this morning, but he dreaded going. He hadn't any idea what they'd be teaching him, or how he should react to what must be teachings of terrible forces and cruel spells.

How could it be different? No matter how kind the men and women were who he'd met so far, the knowledge of how the snake-man had wielded this same power they wished to force on him was ingrained in his mind. Someone had to have taught him, once upon a time. Thoughts of his spirit holding the same power, mixed with that already in his possession, were horrifying. If classes were avoided, so to would be his learning.

If only it this were his choice. Even if he refused to go, his body wouldn't. The spirit saw this as means to decimate impediments standing long between he and his dark victory. Ryou didn't want pain, he'd move before it was granted him.

Ryou rose and inched closer to the parting of the curtains, inching one back to see the bustle occurring around him. Apprehension seized his heart and he loosed it, sliding back to sit again in the cradling sheets. Waiting for his heart to still took more time than he could probably spare, judging from the haste in the other boys' rush, but he clung to the time greedily. Only after the sounds ceased, and then a little longer to be sure none hid, did he dare to rise.

Making up for his earlier procrastination, he swiftly dressed in the clothes purchased for him the day before and ran his brush through his hair. Taking only a quick, self-conscious glance in the long mirror at the end wall, he made his bed and sat, drawing the newest doll back into his arms and working on her hair.

From her he went on to the others, setting her to lean against his knees. Each one, when tended, he replaced to its earlier post, their hair soothed free to keep it from tangling. His stomach was rumbling in reminder that it required food by the time he finished.

Footsteps pounded on the stairs, followed by the banging open of the door. Ryou recognized the boy who led him to the dorm the night before as the clomping fellow made his way over to him. Manner as cold and schooled as their last meeting, the other eyed him with a faint frown, commenting, "I trust you know dolls do _not_ accompany Slytherins to their classes." The words were aimed to insult, but the dark eyes staring at the doll in his arms told Ryou that his sanity was under question. Tending in response, he responded with a small sigh and the returning of the small doll to the pillows of his bed.

"Good morning," Ryou answered aloud, turning his back to the blond doll and the others on and around his bed, stepping through those circling it easily. All the others in his dorm, he noticed, had left theirs as it was when they tumbled out long before. "Is it time now to go to class?"

Those dark eyes watching him darkened with some caustic thought, but the brunette's response gave no bite. "No. Snape sent me to show you where the great hall is. Then I get the task of waiting for you to eat and walking you to your classes."

"Gom-Sorry," Ryou murmured, taking up the dragon-hide bag chosen for him by his head of house the day before. In it he'd packed what the professor had told him he'd need that morning. Swinging it over his shoulder with a wince at the weight, he showed himself ready but was given a snort.

"You _do_ realize it's cold outside, right," his fellow student and assigned guide snipped. "Get your cloak on."

Having thought all classes would be taken indoors, Ryou flushed darkly. The other student had no cloak over his shoulders, but neither did he have his books. At the confusion in his brown orbs, the other quirked a brow. "You think I planned to come all the way down here after breakfast? All my junk's in the hall."

Hall…? Realizing the boy meant the great hall where he'd been told they'd eat, he flushed deeper and swung the furred cloak over his shoulders, clasping it beneath his chin. His guide didn't even wait for him to finish before swerving towards the door and sauntering off, forcing Ryou to scamper after him if he didn't wish to be deserted.

The chambers where they roomed were in the bowels of the castle, gifting them with a cool air that somehow evaded being dampened but that Ryou felt they'd probably all curse during the chill months of winter. But it felt nice right then against his face, with the warmth of his heavy cloak on his back to ward off any cold he might have felt. As they climbed the long, gray steps, the lit sconces petered out and windows began unfurling the coming day on a level with the dewed grass.

And they'd be stepping out into this once he'd eaten. A thrill raced through his body at this thought. Although he'd been outdoors yesterday with the professor, it wasn't the same. Then they'd been shopping in busy streets, with no trees and little grass to remind him of the life without.

Just maybe, life here wouldn't be miserable. If given any chance, he could almost believe that there was hope he'd come to enjoy it… But that would hurt, setting himself up to be disappointed again. That was Domino's fault. Long before he lived there, he'd ceased to hope and merely lived. He had to make himself understand that it wouldn't be better here, but it might just be worse.

To his spirit, this castle would be an elaborate dollhouse filled with dolls that could be owned and utilized. With the Egyptian once again at his side in a false form, amber gaze roving their surroundings in evaluation, Ryou made no pretences at believing he'd behave otherwise. The toys shaped here were much more powerful, and, in being so, more valuable to the one by which he was controlled.

"Bakura, wasn't it?" Turning his attention away from the spirit, Ryou nodded to the boy leading him.

"Hai. Bakura Ry-I mean, Ryou Bakura." He flushed, but didn't reply to the inquiring gaze shot at him. He was _English_, so why was it so hard for him to talk like he was? It was strange. When he first came to Japan, all his thoughts had been English, and blunders learning to speak with everyone around him deterred him continually for that first year. Now, upon returning to a place where the dominant language was his own, he seemed to be going through the exact same thing in reverse!

Not that it was _that _ bad for him trying to return to English speech, but it still distressed him how awkward that return was. It was probably partially blamed by his reluctance to press himself into English thoughts. Doing that would admit he was there to stay.

"And you'll be in Domino again soon, won't you, kitten," the spirit jeered.

No, he would probably never see the city again. When it came time for his darkness' revenge, he, Bakura-sama's light, would long have run out of use.

"Why are you so damned polite?"

Shrugging to avoid the embarrassment of speech, Ryou hastened his stride to keep up with the speedy boy's heavier steps. Really, he mused, it was a wonder that the other boy-whose name he still didn't have- didn't break through the steps they were going up. Or break his feet, considering that the steps were stone. His own legs ached in sympathy for the other's abused ones.

"I… Sorry." He ducked his head, but the other boy didn't appear to really care one way or the other.

"Just don't go stuttering in front of the other houses. Bad for the Slytherin image," the boy groused, and Ryou held his tongue.

The came to a great door which the other pushed open, and Ryou forgot all about the last words thrown his way when the enormity of the hall stretched before them. His guide didn't seem to care, and when Ryou made no move to follow he found his arm seized. Being hauled through the rows of tables should have been a bother, some part of Ryou's mind noted. The part that wasn't locked onto the ceiling at the moment, where dark, stringy clouds lined in gold were drifting apart to let a lightening sky peek down.

"Snap out of it and sit down," the boy hissed into his ear. With the return of his flush, Ryou hastily took in that he stood alongside a table where some familiar faces were frowning his way. Swallowing shame, he slid onto the bench next to the boy he'd followed and, seeing that most were finishing their meal, didn't bother getting any for himself. He wasn't that hungry anymore, now that hundreds of children seemed to be focusing on him. Besides, he needed to be ready to follow his classmate to wherever it was they were going if he wasn't to miss class.

* * *

Over at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Harry were shooting less than covert glances the new student's way.

"Her hair is actually _white_," Ron hissed to Harry and Hermione, his eyes widened comically. "I knew purebloods stuck to themselves, but that's something! Pug-face won't hold a candle to this one where Malfoy's concerned, just watch!"

Hermione looked like she wanted to elbow him, but couldn't decide if it would do any good or not. He did have a point, albeit a rude one. Most of the students around them hadn't seemed to notice the new Slytherin, but those who had stared and whispered, the beginnings of what would soon be wildfire.

"Malfoy's love life is hardly your concern, Ron," was what she settled for. "You'd better stop gawking and finish your plate, or we'll be late for Hagrid's class."

"I don't know," Seamus interjected before she could say any more, picking apart a piece of toast to flick chunks into Dean's glob of ketchup. "Looks to me like Zabini's cutting in early."

"No wonder!" Harry snorted, and Ron continued on, riding the attention. "The other girls over there are dogs. This one's pretty good looking for a snake."

"Ron! She's on the other side of the room, how can _you_ tell."

The redhead shrugged, finishing his corner of toast smeared in marmalade before giving an answer. "Not fat, doesn't seem shrill at all like that pug-face, and I don't see any lumps on back or front."

Several boys - and Hermione - colored at that innocent statement. No lumps indeed! Strangely, before she could get her bearings and launch into another rant, the ring of that statement in her ears brought a funny fact to her attention. There really _weren't_ any so-called 'lumps' on the new student's front.

* * *

When Blaise Zabini, whose name he finally had, led him to the mostly empty classroom where they'd be having Defense lessons, very few students were already there, and those mostly from the other house - Gryffindor, hadn't the one of the boys said? While the few of their own house's students present looked quite morose, the ones from Gryffindor looked smug. Like they were up too early, granted, but still self-satisfied. Funny, that.

Whatever the reason was, he didn't mind. Settling into the desk next to his guide, Ryou folded his arms and rested his head in them. He was very tired, and it wasn't as if the Professor was there yet. He'd only close his eyes for a minute.

Ryou awoke to the feeling of eyes on his face. Blinking his own eyes open, he found himself face to face with a man of uncertain age, light brown hair graying and golden eyes sparkling in mischief. As soon as Ryou's eyes were open, the man lightly flicked the tip of his nose. Mind too fogged by sleep to utter a decent squeal of surprise, Ryou merely blinked at the man who must be his Professor. The fellow was crouched next to his desk, a smirk on his face.

"Careful," the man flashed his teeth in a teasing grin, "I could've bitten you while you slept. The proper way to go about defense is to _take in one's surroundings._" The teacher, and the more awake students on the opposite side of the classroom, gave a laugh, and Ryou recoiled nervously. He could feel his ever-present blush staining his cheeks as his mind cleared.

After this, Ryou tried to follow his first class, but none of the things they talked about made any sense, and something about the professor terrified him. Nothing about that made sense, as the sickly looking man seemed to thrive off playful emotions he roused in the students as he poked the lot of them into wakefulness from their dreary morning state of mind

Really, the man was too happy for it to be early morning. Watching him stir life into a red-haired boy whose head was being cradled by a lanky arm, Ryou wondered just when this teacher had woken that morning.

This thought stirred memories of home, and he wondered what Jou's reaction to this teacher would have been. Annoyance, more than likely. Thoughts of his lazy friend brought a cheerless smile to Ryou's lips. Home wasn't _his_ home anymore. Best to accept it.

"Your Uncle wouldn't be impressed in hearing you daydreamed my class away. Perk up, now. It's a long morning yet."

Shaking his musings from his head, as he wouldn't have made any headway on them anyhow, Ryou tried to focus on the nonsense the man was issuing. Further attention proved it not to be so much nonsense as he'd thought, but most of it was still beyond his understanding. Since not everyone around him seemed to be able to follow those spry words, it was a bit of comfort. Less so when Ryou pondered this and came to the conclusion that, if after several years of these teachings his fellow students couldn't follow what they were being taught, how was _he_ supposed to catch up?

Seeing the incorporeal form of his dark prowling around the stone classroom, Ryou watched Bakura's assessing movements. It might have been comforting to have his spirit about, were there not potential targets clustered together in this stone classroom. And, still, something about this Professor in his worn robes unsettled him.

Professor Remus Lupin, he read from the board, just now taking note of the name chalked in neat, precise letters. Something was different about him, off…

No. It had to be his imagination. So much had been happening lately, no wonder his mind was coming up with groundless fears for him to torture himself with. He'd have to calm down and be reasonable. Whatever was taunting the back of his mind, sending shivers through his soul, was nothing more than imagination.

'If he bothers you so much, let me dispose of him, kitten.' The darkness' gaze was centered on the teacher now as the man spoke to the class at large. There was what looked like suspicion in those amber eyes.

'No,' he sent hurriedly through their link. 'It's nothing.'

'And now you seek to order me about, little host?' Bakura stood behind Professor Lupin now, a cruel smile twisting his expression.

"I'm sorry! _Please,_ don't hurt him!" All heads turned his way. Professor Lupin gazed at him in concern over the papers he'd been reading from.

"Mr. Bakura?"

His Yami smirked and Ryou hunched low in his seat, his body torn between slumping in relief and tensing from the sudden, embarrassing attention. Why had he spoken aloud.

"Gomen, Professor," he murmured softly, tracing the engraved initials on the desktop. Not so different from normal school, right here. Already his spirit was turned to a new amusement, dark chuckles filling Ryou's ears as the spirit enjoyed his light's discomfort. Then his form dissipated, the spirit returning to the ring about Ryou's neck.

Ryou was uncomfortably warm the rest of that class, and the target an askance glance from both Professor and students. It was a relief when the class was over and they were dismissed, himself with no more assigned than a few chapters of reading from a book that Professor Lupin told him was good for setting a base.

'The first years will be reading from this as well, though not nearly as much as I expect you to do in the next few days,' he'd been told. 'We'll get you caught up.'

Sticking close to Zabini's heels, Ryou clutched his bag close and tried not to concentrate on the name of the class - Care of Magical Creatures. That snake he'd bee attacked by had doubtlessly been magical. Were things like this what they'd be looking after? A shudder shook him. He hoped not.

The sky above was a slate gray, tiny pockets in the overcast sky teasingly flashing blue for them here and there. It wouldn't have been bad for a September day were it not so chill outside. Fall was getting in an early start, though it would be some time yet before the air was glazed by the presence of frost.

As they neared a small hut, Ryou had to swallow his heart before it could burst from his chest. Standing outside the little hut in wait was a gigantic man, built strong and wise. He couldn't yet see the features on the man, which were well covered by a scruffy brown beard. For a second he paused, prepared to bolt in the opposite direction, but a round-faced girl caught his arm in hers and led him along before he could move past contemplation onto action.

His heart beat harder the closer they came. The man was larger than Rashid! Worse, he was larger than even the biggest of Seto's bodyguards.

"He's a half-giant, you see," the girl next to him was explaining as the distance closed on them. "I bet that fool Zabini never bothered telling you. Boys." This was followed by a snort. Ryou was uncomfortably aware that, once again, he didn't seem to fall under this class.

Since there didn't seem to be anything to say, Ryou remained quiet. The other didn't seem bothered, but nattered on until they joined the rest of the class, where she instantly dropped him and wrapped herself around the arm of a taller blonde. He didn't seem overly bothered by his new extension, just greeted her with a dry, "Pansy", and continued staring ahead to where who was apparently their Professor stood with something that must be the creature they'd be taught the care for.

It looked like nothing more than a mass of macaroons melted over a heap of haphazardly piled sticks. A sun-melted picnic snack dumped out, only without the ants swarming its sugary sides. The only thing wrong with this image-not counting the enormous amount of chocolate that would be necessary for such bulk-was the gargled noises vibrating from the gaping hole that had to be its mouth.

"Welcome back ter another year a' Care of Magical Creatures. Today I got yeh a muck sludger. Now, yeh jus' keep yer distance an' I'll show yeh how ter feed'im. 'E don' like ter be poked at, so you gots ter watch close an' do as I do, hear?"

"Bumbling oaf," Ryou heard the blond mutter scathingly to the glowering mini-giants flanking him. His attachment just giggled. "Next he'll say it'll smother you if you get too close." Zabini didn't appear to care one whit about where his charge had gone to, just stood near to the others in the year, all who seemed to gravitate towards that same blond.

The boy looked so much like the man, Lucius, from the Serpentine Lord's mansion. Remembering how it was he who brought him the robes to wear, Ryou wondered if this was the man's son. Surely there had to be some relation between them, as the resemblance was uncanny.

In front of them, the half-giant dug in his pockets until he produced a mouse. The man held it up for them to see by the tail, and at that point Ryou deduced that it was quite dead. Funny that seeing the man scrounge it out of his pocket hadn't convinced Ryou first.

"Now, yeh just 'old it out like so - - - there!" And, as the giant dangled the dead mouse by its tail above a hole in the glob that must serve as its mouth, a gathering of the mass shifted and, from inside that maw, more brown gloop poured out and rose up to cover and consume the mouse. The large man let go before the mess of brown could reach his skin, and it retreated with its prize.

Ew.

"Now!" The giant was grinning. His beetle-black eyes were shining as he took in their pale, green-tinged faces. "Who is it 'at goes nex'?" To Ryou's distress, those dark eyes landed on him and lit. "Ryou! Ah, now don' be shy. C'mere and 'ave a go, won' yeh?"

Swallowing hard, Ryou tensed but nodded and crept closer to the enormous man, trying to ignore the returning urge to turn tail and run. What if the blond was right, and getting too close to the mass of picnic food gone bad would lead to being smothered? In all his thoughts of death, this was _not_ the death he pictured for himself. Ryou cringed as a meaty paw landed on his shoulder and gave it a pat that almost sent him tumbling. "Don' be shy! Now, jus' wait an' I'll get yeh set."

The humongous man dug into one pocket after the other until, at last, his hand retreated with a mouse held by its tail. A dead mouse. That Ryou would have to touch. Staring from that terrifying, beaming face to the mouse held out in a hand that could easily encircle Ryou's neck on its own, he weighed his options. Then, with a faint quiver, reached out to close his fingers over the offered tail.

Just as his fingers closed over the tail, there was a jerk from the body. Squealing in fright, Ryou dropped the wriggling mouse and, when he fell, he scuttled backwards on his rear. The mouse hit the ground at a run, and was lost in seconds to the trees not far from where they stood. Wide eyed, the half-giant bent over Ryou, concerned words on his tongue, but Ryou was having none of it. With another cry of fright, he scrambled to his feet and took off at a run for the doors of the school.

There was a bit of laughter from behind him that he missed, but most of the students simply stared after him, perplexed.

* * *

Ryou's hiding place was nothing any more elaborate than the table in the great hall, as it was the only place he could remember the directions to. Huddled on the floor beneath the table where he'd been sitting that morning, and alone beneath the wide, brightening ceiling, Ryou wished and wished that he could just go home.

That he was likely a coward for running didn't matter so much at the moment. This last while had been more trying than he felt he could cope with any more. A _giant_ had been teaching that class. A bloody _giant_. For all Ryou knew, the man could've been biding his time to grind his bones to make his bread!

Feeling the edges of hysteria creeping up on him, Ryou swallowed a few more times and drove his face into the skirt of his robes. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. His spirit, an amused presence at the back of his thoughts, was no help whatsoever.

In time Ryou heard the door open to the hall. The hysteria he battled reared at this, and he pictured both a wolf and a giant crossing the floor in search of him. For a second the thought of a wolf distracted him, as he had no idea where it could have come from, but then there were footsteps and he was stiffening once more.

"Desist from these low actions at once, Mr. Bakura," the comforting snark of his head of house echoed in the empty hall. Crawling out from under the table and onto the bench, Ryou pushed his hair back from his face and gave the man a small nod. His lips he kept pressed together, too nervous to part them in case a babbling escaped.

"Slytherins, Mr. Bakura, do not hide beneath tables," the sallow-skinned man continued, closing in the distance as he eyes Ryou's robes. "You'll have to beat the dust off of those robes before the students get here. However," the man gave a sigh, and Ryou felt certain the other would have pinched the bridge of his nose were his hands not filled with vials, "you don't have to return to class. I trust you still have your books?"

Ryou flushed, giving his head a slow shake. Those, he realized, had been left in the field. Annoyance flashed in his head of house's eyes. "Zabini will gather them at the end of class, then. Take these two potions for now, and an elf will deliver a book for you to entertain yourself with." Those dark eyes narrowed at him. "If you cause any mischief while waiting for your fellow students, there will be consequences."

Feeling brave enough now not to babble, Ryou gave another nod, idly wondering if he'd soon grow dizzy from all the nodding he'd been doing lately. "Of course, sir." Nervously, he took the vials handed to him, eyeing their contents nervously and taking tentative sniffs.

"Calming draught," Professor Snape snapped. "The other is so your cold doesn't worsen after your running about and being outside in the damp."

Accepting this, Ryou drank both down, cringing at the horrid tastes, then returned the bottles with a polite thank you. The other just nodded once, turned on his heel and left. Despite himself, Ryou could feel the drink working, and the turmoil that had been his stomach these last hours simmered down and then cooled to an easy, comfortable steadiness.

When the elf came, it was a potions book that Ryou was delivered, similar in title but different looking to the one that had been purchased for him for the class. It was designed for those starting out, he noted as he started, but that was all he understood. Everything else made as much sense as living piles of mud.

He'd made little progress before the students poured in. Thinking he'd be left on his own, Ryou was startled when a heavy hand fell on each of his shoulders. Looking up from the book, he found the mini-giants that flanked the blond standing behind him expectantly. Confused, Ryou looked around, then back to them.

"I'm sorry?" His soft inquiry was met with his being hauled to his feet.

"You're not supposed to sit with the kids," one of the meaty fellows grunted. A second later Ryou found himself shoved next to Zabini, the same as before. The boy shoved the books Ryou had deserted his way, and that was that.

Picking at the foot on his plate, Ryou noticed for the first time how the table seemed to be laid out so that the students were grouped with their years. Judging from the other tables, this wasn't the rule, but he'd obviously upset the balance here by doing like the others. Strange.

After lunch, Ryou spent the afternoon classes trying his best to listen to the mystifying words the Professors uttered, and dutifully wrote down his own assignments when they were listed. In a class called Charms, a tiny little fellow turned out to be their teacher. He seemed nice enough, and his size reminded Ryou quite a bit of the young Yugi Motou. The cheer the little fellow seemed to exude from every pore doubled that resemblance.

Almost as soon as Ryou had taken his seat, next to the blond at the other's pointed glance, the tiny Professor had scuttled over and introduced himself. Following this came a rapid fire of squeaky little speech on what Charms was about, what he'd be learning, and assurances that he'd be brought up to date.

Then more reading had been assigned. 'Basic Charms and the Basic Principles'. Not that he understood the need for all of those texts that Professor Snape had gathered for him to purchase, Ryou felt a terrible headache coming on. Still, relieved to find a friendly little teacher after the horrors of that morning, Ryou smiled and thanked Professor Flitwick. A funny name, that one.

Afternoon soon wore on, and, once more finding himself crowded by the two mini-giants of Draco Malfoy, Ryou dutifully followed them to the Great Hall. There he took the seemingly assigned place across from the blond and next to Zabini, the same place he'd been ordered to at noon.

The students around him joked and gossiped, with many a snide remark directed towards the houses around them. Quite a few times Ryou heard the names Potter and Weasel, along with a few mudbloods tied on that were spoken like names. Not wanting to seem rude, he kept to himself, picking at the food he'd chosen. Strangely, his spirit had been quiet that afternoon, with so few remarks on what was happening around them that Ryou could almost think the other was gone.

Only, quiet or not, there was a watchfulness in that silence that belied any guise at innocence.

"Ryou." The blond spoke in a even voice, obviously expecting attention. Ryou look up from his plate.

"Yes, Malfoy-san?" He cringed at his mistake at the same time as a funny expression crossed the other boy's face. Then the blond seemed to shake it off.

"It's Malfoy," he barked, and Ryou hastened a nod. This one seemed to be in command here, so it was best just to agree. "Anyway," a brief hand gesture signified that they were moving past that point, "you'd best be more settled tomorrow. I expect our head of house is going to want to talk to you in the morning over how you behaved today." Here there was a narrowing of eyes. "You weren't very Slytherin."

Fighting the urge to ask what being Slytherin _was _in order to escape further embarrassment, Ryou ducked his head and gave a soft apology. The other didn't seem to care, but turned back to Zabini and opened up a conversation on something called Quidditch.

When the meal was through, and those around him were shifting restlessly and then rising to leave for their common room, Ryou pushed back his plate and rose with them, welcoming the idea of sleep. With a few words to what Ryou was coming to think of as the blonde's cronies, Draco stood as well. Relieved to have someone from his own year to follow, and whose name he knew, Ryou fell into step once more behind the blonde and his cronies.

It was an uneventful walk back to their dorms. In their own rooms, though, something seemed to catch Draco's eyes and he stalked to where Ryou's own trunk rested at the back. Of all the bad luck, Draco stumbled over a pliable wooden body lying overlooked in his path when he neared the bed.

Ryou dropped to his knees while Draco cussed out the dolls, pearly hair rippling about his form as he busily settled them back into their places.

"How can you move around in here with them everywhere? How can you _sleep_ with them like that?"

"Malfoy-san-" Ryou's brown eyes dipped to the floor as he let himself be cut off with the blonde's next tirade.

"_Malfoy._ And they're _creepy_. Look at them! The things are everywhere! If they weren't wood, I'd say they were all dying in some gruesome torture-fest right now."

"Please, Malfoy-s- Malfoy," Ryou pleaded wearily, grazing one doll's hair with gentle fingers and a gaze filled with remorse. "Don't talk like that."

The quiver beneath his words received no attention from the other boy as he plowed on. "If you want them, that's your decision, but you've got to be pretty sick in the head to collect, then _sleep in the middle of_, that perverse graveyard."

And the blonde dropped onto his own bed, shucking his robes and closing the curtains between them. Still kneeling on the floor, Ryou closed his eyes on the gathering moisture and crawled from there into his blankets. It _was_ a graveyard that he slept within. Everything Draco had said was true. He had no right to try and stop those things from being said.

Each one of those figures had come to their fate with fear exploding in their veins. If it had hurt he didn't know, but no pain could merit such terror on each face. Only, it was not deaths kinder cradle into which their souls were released, but were imprisoned in the objects his spirit gave to him.

And all were his fault. Without him, most of those gathered in that crude cluster wouldn't have ever crossed paths with the ancient one. Nannies hired by his father to look after him, men drawn by his pretty face and desires that should never have been stirred, adults and children innocent in their sympathetic offers of friendship to a child who seemed so alone-all punished as equals for their transgressions.

Others, whom he'd never met, also came to their fate because of him. Those Bakura brought as toys with which to gift to his kitten. A toy for a toy.

All the other students had either turned in or were gathered in the dorm, so none were there to see the curtains drop around him of their own accord. With a moan, Ryou's muscles went lax and he fell against the body of his spirit even as it formed there beside him.

He didn't cry. He _never_ cried. Why, now, was that all he did? Remembrance of thoughts he'd dwelt on seconds ago clenched shame around his heart. They couldn't cry, that silent army of wooden corpses, and he flaunted his freedom with each moment he stayed with them. But the sobs in his throat just wouldn't stop, and soon the drops would be falling.

Why was he here? This school was now condemned by his presence, like so many before it. No one in his life could evade his curse.

Substantial fingers toyed with the delicate boy's hair as he gasped his fears into the indentation in the tan skin of his other half's shoulder. He wanted the comfort of the shadows to blanket his mind, for the feel of his darker soul swallowing the wan light, encasing it, smothering it. Right then, he would dwell in the recesses of that malicious mind with naught but relief. Gladly would he be the toy cast from that spoilt child for its flaws.

Long had he been conquered, after all. Would Bakura ever do him this one kindness? _'Kiss and make up, Ryou. Your Mommy's leaving soon…'_

Leaving and never to be coming back, away with sister to where a river shone in sun and the Ifrits snatched at ankles while a blond child laughed. There father's lion prowled. None remained here to answer Ryou's letters.

Before dry sobs gave in to moisture, the spirit took pity upon the mortal and layered his mind thick in the choking shadows craved.

End Ch. 13

Hey! Sorry for the wait. I still haven't found the piece I wanted, so I just rewrote it all tonight. On a plus note, I have lots typed on the next chapter…

So! Does anyone remember me? Sheepish Grins I'm also going to be going over the earlier chapters in the next little bit, cleaning up the mess. Despite doing this not so long ago, I missed quite a bit that needed work. Um. As for Hagrid's accent, I apologize. I can't seem to get my HP books rounded up right now! Frowns to herself Weird. I hate it when I lose stuff… Like that stupid hunk of this story I finally sighed, gave up on, and rewrote. Which was Hagrid's class. With the accent. See my issue? (

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Special Thanks To:

EVERYONE! Thank you SO much! I can't make my reviews work right for me to list you all, but I've read your reviews countless times, and you guys are what finally got me off my butt and writing again. Thank you all sooo much for giving me back my inspiration! I love you all sooooo much! Huggles

Eden's Echo? Please don't kill me! See? Instead of holding back this chapter for more searching, edits, and whatnot, I'm posting it right now, hot off the press. Oh, it's been given a few looks over, but you know me. Now I just need you guys to point out what you don't like so I can see about fixing things in the next bit!

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And… Um… Forgive me?

Reviews are nice. Ideas even better Þ


	14. Walk Sanity's Edge

**Continued Survival**

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

A/n: Hm. Well. Here we are again. Happy Birthday to Eden's Echo!

**Chapter 14 Walk Sanity's Edge**

'Dear Amane,

It's raining again today. You can't hear it down here in what they all call the dungeons, but the library sighs under its continued assault. The librarian doesn't let anyone open the windows when it's raining. A girl in my grade is always arguing with her about it. She must like the smell of damp grass that the cold winds blow in. I think she might hope it'd soothe the boy she brings with her.

Our uncle is the headmaster here. Did you know that Mother has an uncle? He's a very kind and patient man. He smiles at me. Sometimes he winks. He paid for my school supplies, too, I think. Father wasn't able to go.

All of the teachers in my new school are nice. The one who teaches Potions, Professor Snape, he was the one who took me to get my supplies. It's strange how he looks at me sometimes, as if he's trying to see someone else there instead.'

The sound of the falling rain whispered of serenity. If only the rain's story could wash away his reality. Fingering the crisp parchment as thoughts spilt free of the walls he'd tried to hold them with, Ryou sought the right words to end this without making of him a worse liar than he already was.

There were none. It had long been too late for him, anyway. Still, if these gentle lies could comfort a tiny lost heart, he couldn't withhold them.

'Father sends his love,

Ryou'

Folding the sheet of parchment, Ryou slid it into the bag at his feet and turned his attention back to the book at his elbow. Even with all the magic he'd witnessed in his life, and in the days since entering this new life, the workings of it continued to elude him. If you knew the practicalities on something, and where it came from, it should be easier to understand its workings, though. Or so his Head of House had said. So he spent his time reading, but this was still just gibberish to _him_.

True to Malfoy's words, Ryou's day hadn't started well. Professor Snape had called him from the hall at breakfast, leading him to his office in the lower halls of the castle outside what would prove to be his classroom. Being part of the house of Slytherin seemed a lot more complicated now that he was given orders as to what was expected of him. To be honest, though, Ryou doubted he could stop himself from running if he fell into that situation again.

No others were showing alarm, the man was a Professor - no matter how incompetent, in Malfoy's words - and he was expected to brave his classes no matter _how_ different they seemed to him. Then there was talk of the rules of the house. Curfew, for one. This idea struck Ryou by surprise. It wasn't that he hadn't heard of them before, but the notion that he was going to be held accountable by one was unpleasant. When night came, nothing could stop his spirit from wandering. The darker hours were when the ancient one thrived. But the spirit could be trusted to not be seen, so long as he didn't want to be.

Moving past all that, there was also the embarrassing fact that most of the school seemed of the opinion that he was a _she_. Several times he'd caught the eye of a boy drifting over his form, and had to stomach the restless stir of the spirit's presence in the back of his mind. _Look but don't touch_ was the silent rule his spirit had in place. Ryou shuddered to think what would happen if one of them _did_ come too close. Only a fraction of the attention had been averted as the classes wore on and more students heard him addressed as Mr. Bakura. It was maddening, really…

And he was getting nowhere in this book, the words drifting through his mind with no footholds. Trying to dispel his thoughts on all other matters, Ryou narrowed his eyes at the words of the book and began the page again. He idly wondered if half his problem was the fact that the group across the room from him kept looking at him, but tried to drive that thought away as well. He was getting nowhere. And it wasn't as if they could _do _anything to him, or likely even wanted to. After all, they didn't know him.

* * *

Across the library, the boy who lived groaned and craned his neck until it snapped. On either side of him, the other members of the golden trio ignored him in favor of their favorite topic - his safety.

"Do you want my opinion, or do you just want me to pretend I never heard you," Harry groused. They may or may not have noticed, as their bickering excelled to new heights. (Something to do with Ryou killing him for Voldemort and Draco presenting the body to 'Daddy dearest'-only the two can't agree on how to protect him from the perceived threat.)

"He could be a vampire, you know. Look how pale he is!" It was amazing that the object of their scrutiny was still engrossed in his book and oblivious to their discussion.

"Ron, really! Being pale doesn't mean anything. He probably just doesn't get enough sun."

"Like Snape?"

"Yes-" she frowned, then conceded. "Well, yes, but that's _not_ what I meant. He's been in here for hours, and he keeps getting more and more books. He might be looking for something!"

"Look," Harry interrupted them, tired of it all and wanting to end this before she could make any more idiotic statements, "I don't trust him either, but I seriously doubt he's up to any dark magic. The guy can't even brew first year potions. Ron and I can do _that_, even." He paused, letting this point get the proper consideration, then ploughed ahead before they could pounce and argue over this new tidbit. "He's probably just looking for stuff to help his lessons. Besides, who wants to hang around the library all the time, spying on Slytherins."

Rom seemed inclined to agree, but the female in their party shot the red-head such a scathing glare that he hastened to glance away from them both, refusing to make eye contact with his bespectacled companion.

"_Traitor,_" Harry muttered darkly, then quickly adverted his own gaze when haughty brown orbs snapped his way.

"If he _was_ up to no good, I certainly hope the both of you would have enough sense to go up there on your own, and that I wouldn't need to hold your hands. Honestly! The library isn't _dangerous._ Books won't just spring to life and try to eat you-" here both shot her a look as identical in the quirking of their brows as one could expect from Ron's elder twin brothers, pranksters extraordinaire, "oh-well, not _every _book!" She huffed. "You two are so childish!"

"Did _you_ keep the bloody thing?" Hermione flushed and pursed her lips, answer enough for the smug Ron and snickering Harry. Both could imagine how long _that_ book would have lasted in their bookish friend's library. About the time it took a good hunk out of Hogwarts: A History, it would've found itself bound and burned. While she watched. Glaring. She was scary like that.

"I still think he'd have made a better girl," Ron muttered morosely, gaze flickering towards the white haired boy a few tables away. Harry was inclined to agree, but the ice in 'Mione's eyes assured him that keeping his mouth shut was the safest idea. As mentioned before, she could be pretty scary.

* * *

Ryou felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck as he read, and it had nothing to do with the trio a few tables down. Looking up from the confusion of his book and turning to look behind him, he saw Malfoy, followed by his two inseparable friends, sauntering his way. "Here again?" The blond inquired silkily, raising one smooth brow as his gaze drifted from Ryou to the duo a few tables away. "I can't say much for your company."

Since Ryou didn't really understand this statement, he just canted his head a bit to the side and offered a polite nod. "I'm having trouble understanding the lessons," he gave as way of explanation. "Professor Snape suggested I try and read some of the reason beneath the different subjects."

Draco Malfoy looked at the book in his hands, at the pile next to him, then gave a very loud snort. "I see." Whatever he saw, Ryou mused, he didn't seem impressed by it. Then the boy waved his hand in what Ryou thought to be a dismissive gesture. Until the blond issued his order. "Get the books for him."

Both of the mini-giants moved forward and caught up Ryou's pile of books, Goyle going so far as to snatch the one he was reading out of his hands. They carried them to the desk where Madam Pince sat with her pinched face, and Ryou watched, stunned, as they signed them out Ryou was still trying to piece together what had happened when Malfoy settled his hands on his hips and gave him a hard look.

"Get your bag and come on," the regal looking boy snapped. Unable to think of any way out of the demand, and nervous over the hard glance the Madam was slicing into them, Ryou shouldered his bag and followed.

After ten minutes of listening to Draco Malfoy run on about appearances and hiding weaknesses (it seemed that hanging out in the library, studying low-level texts was a no-no), Ryou made his escape with a meek assent to the demand that he bring his books to the dungeons from now on. As the blonde frowned, seemingly unable to bring up a new direction in which to take his ranting, Ryou hastened to nod his respect and flee the dorms for the common room.

He hated being around so many strangers, but it was a relief to have the force of Draco Malfoy's ire no longer directed his way. He headed for a comfortable looking chair, intent on getting away from the crowd to that quiet little perch, when something caught on his foot and he stumbled. Righting himself by some miracle, Ryou blinked at his feet and found a yellow strip of yawn strewn over his foot. Following its path, it took only a second to find where the yellow ball had pinned itself against the wall. Following it in the other direction found him the culprit, a pretty little girl probably no more than twelve, and bright red of hair. She was hunkering down with only her long purple needles to hide herself, a nervous light in wide eyes. Whatever it was she was making, Ryou doubted it was supposed to look so ragged. Beside her sat a scowling second girl, blond, of probably the same age.

Gathering the yarn, Ryou carried it over to the pair and offered it to the one with the needles. At his polite smile she relaxed, accepting the loosed tangles of yarn and what remained of the ball that had shed it. "Thank you," she uttered shyly. "Sorry I tripped you."

"That's okay," Ryou answered.

"You've never been a wizard before, have you," the knitting girl piped up suddenly. "It must be strange," she continued, seeming to have gotten over her nervousness. The ball of yarn now lay forgotten under the hand pinning it to her lap. "I remember when I found out! Ma never told Da what she was 'till I got me letter. There she was, all proud and knowing it would happen, and Da? Confuddled. Once he got it straightened out, she was on the couch for a _month_. He said something about her filling the bed with toads all she liked, the first night, because she was being punished. Funny. Ma never looked too bothered. She kept winking at me when he wasn't looking - and a few times he was - for the entire month. Still does, too, when he mouths stuff about witches, warts, or the like." The small witch smiled, continuing to unravel the yarn. "I don't think Ma takes him too seriously."

Ryou smiled at the story. It must have been a very loving family that she had. Now that she wasn't being quiet, the girl was very animated. It was a nice change. Her friend, who until now had been eyeing him appraisingly, joined in and it didn't take long for Ryou to notice that _she_ could talk, too.

"I'm from an old family. Pureblood and all that. I don't know what you guys have to marvel over." She gave a little shrug, then smiled. "I like knitting, myself. Emily says that's normal in muggle families, too. And sewing. And embroidery. You have to keep your hands on it all the time, but that doesn't matter because spells don't make things as nice. They tend to leave the stitches real loose and it looks messy. At least Mom's does."

"We're friends from before school," the blond fired at him, her manner slightly threatening.

"But you knew you were a witch and she didn't," Ryou pointed out, finding it hard to believe that such a secret could be kept.

"Oh, there were always a _ton_ of rules to go down there," the chipper girl pointed out. "It almost drove me nuts. She didn't even know who _Gildroy Lockhart _was!" Both girls squealed here, and it was a bit before they calmed enough for them to speak coherently.

"I _know_! I can't even imagine it, now!"

Ryou watched them for a moment, feeling a sudden urge to laugh. It was like watching Anzu and Yugi, something he missed more than he realized as he watched the exchange. A question nagged at his mind, though, and he ended up giving in and voicing it. "Are there… many like us, then? Who don't know about magic when they come here?"

"There's lots of students who aren't pureblood, if that's what you mean," the strict little blonde spoke up. "We don't get a lot of you in our house, but the other houses make up for it. Ravenclaw is _full_ of your type. And muggleborns." At his confused look, she went in a bit deeper. "Muggleborn means born from muggles." He tried to look like he understood, failing the attempt miserably. "People without magic." If she had been a kitten, he imagined her ears would be back and her tail swishing. "Our house _never_ gets muggleborns. Half-bloods, yes. Not muggleborns."

Ryou considered her words and the superior light in her blue eyes. The girl next to her seemed indifferent, but the speaker appeared too serious for her words to just be idle chatter. "Is it, er," he frowned over his words, "wrong to be a mug-muggleborn?"

Both girls gave a shrug. The blond one answered. "Not really. They're just something that doesn't belong in our house."

Ryou nodded, but didn't really understand. He figured it must be something that should be filed away with Draco Malfoy's talks on proper Slytherin behavior and pride. The two girls drifted back to the topic of one Gildroy Lockhart and Ryou slipped free of them, making his way towards the chair that had been his earlier destination before he'd been distracted.

He was accosted before he could take a seat, a large hand closing over his arm and halting him. Ryou turned, a startled curve to his lips, and found himself facing someone easily thrice his size. Not that the other was fat or anything, there was just plenty of muscle on him. He was quite… big.

"Yes," he asked quietly, canting his head politely. The boy sent him a flashing grin and released his arm. Ryou felt relief at that.

"Ryou, right?" Ryou nodded, seeing no other necessary response. His stomach clenched in on itself at the way those eyes looked down at him. "Theodore Nott. I thought I might make an introduction."

Forcing a wan smile, Ryou waited for the hand that had stopped him to be offered and took it in his light grip. "Ryou Bakura," he answered. The gesture proved a mistake when the other boy's hand closed on his and held on to it. Feeling a prickling in his flesh from neck to calves at the uncomfortable gesture, Ryou sought a polite way to disentangle himself from the other's grip but found the problem taken quite forcefully from his control as his arm twisted free of the larger boy's grip. Ryou himself took the quick steps back before his sense kicked in. He must look a fool!

Embarrassed, Ryou excused himself with a polite smile and headed for what he'd meant to be the stairs. His legs rebelled in this, turning him, instead, away from the softly lit passage and to the stone walled exit of the chambers. To fuss would have been senseless and painful, so he let it go. As the wallpassed behind his back, his vision dimmed and the spirit took over.

End Ch. 14

All done!

_Special Thanks To:_

Eden's Echo: Happy B-day, my loyal reviewer! Hugs! I hope this is worth the wait! Not much action happens here, but this lazy chapter blends in the time until the next bit!

Thank you goes to everyone else, too! I hope to post responses soon in my live journal! XD

**Reviews are nice. You don't want to write a critique? Ah well. Just say 'Hi' and 'like it'. I'm quite easy to please.**


	15. And I Bleed

**Continued Survival**

Summary: Slash As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

_Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…_

A/n: OMG I AM SORRY! I never meant to add the edits as a chapter, and I am so sorry! I feel so bad that I'll throw up the bit that I have done of ch 16 if any of you want an unfinished product to take a peek at? OMG I AM SORRY! I freaked and del'd that copy, so the edits I had for this chapter are now lost. Still, at least the false chapter is gone. Also, I'll see if I can't find the edits before throwing this up again. I. am. so. sorry! Now I'll have to have the next chapter up by the end of this week to make it up to you...

-Grovels at your feet-

**Chapter 15 And I Bleed**

Angry. Terrified. Darkness.

"Save _yourself_ if you can, little idiot," the spirit snarled in his ear as he pinned Ryou by his throat to the stone wall. The anger surging through their link seemed a fire in the air around them, boiling together with the emotions they shared in an unidentifiable mass. Where one feeling began, where one ended, they were more as one in that first instant of his return to awareness than ever Ryou could recall.

Breath hissed against Ryou's cheek and the dark one retreated, making it harder for his face to be seen in the scant light in the unfamiliar hallway. A moment later the light realized that it was only the spirit's stale breath washing over his skin, and that the hissing for air was his own desperate gasping. Now the emotions in them were clarifying, and he knew the fear for his own and the anger for his other's. Long fingers crushed deeper into his skin.

"These touchings are not going to continue. You. Are. _Mine._" Again Ryou's throat constricted, the terror spiraling as those fingers nearly crushed his wind pipe. He was going to die, nothing would stop the actions of his other this time. Already his legs were numb, and in moments all that would hold him upright would be the crushing grip pinning his back to the stone.

'I _am_ yours,' Ryou tried to reassure the other. The darkness' fingers twitched but did not relent. Dark though it was, when the spirit's face once more pressed closer, Ryou could see the red of his irises. They looked almost like flowing rings of blood. So close to fainting, Ryou saw the vision he'd had in the Snake man's lair swim between them. The bleeding ring, children gathered along crimson water's edge. Silent screams bubbled in his mind. Then the lightness in his head expanded.

Rest… Denied it so long, Ryou's lips fell shut as he melted into relief. This lasted not a moment longer, Ryou finding himself released to collapse on the cold stone ground, choking in air and clutching fists of nothing over the dirty floor. Once more he was denied sleep.

The desperate grasping of his body for air died as the lightness of his mind receded. Still his throat ached, so close to having been crushed. Not brave enough to look into those chilling eyes of his other, Ryou kept his eyelashes lowered and leaned against the floor where he rested at his spirit's bare feet.

"If he touched you again, I kill him. Same for others." It was meant. Those words had been proven too many times before.

"Will I be allowed to rest," Ryou mouthed inaudibly, his body limp and his throat still struggling to bring air through his damaged windpipe. No sound would rise to his bidding.

The darkness knew anyway. On the floor he knelt, and tenderly one hand carded its fingers through Ryou's white locks. "There will never be rest for you, kitten," was the cruel mockery of his dark half.

"What do you want here, Yami," Ryou sighed, eyelids drooping. "There's nothing here. And this magic, it's as far from reach as the items you want." Ryou expected a blow in the very least, but there was no answering violence. The spirit's fingers merely dipped to run their tips over the bruises forming on Ryou's throat before the false form became insubstantial and dissolved.

He was left to find his own way back to the dungeons. It took him time to gather the strength to rise, and more to gain the want to. When at last he'd made it there and into his bed, he had little time remaining for sleep.

They would've made nice sisters, Ryou mused as he slumped in his chair. It was a miracle he hadn't yet suffered the younger Malfoy's wrath for poor posture, but his body ached from lack of sleep. Sitting properly would only make that worse, and it wasn't as if everyone else in the common room sat perfectly. Except, his mind consented, most of those who echoed his poor posture were of younger years and probably exempt from the Malfoy's rule by insignificance.

Actually, though, he had to admit that the two girls under his attention were showing him up for those impolite thoughts. Excepting the blond one's somewhat rumpled hair and the tangle of yarn in her lap, the two were immaculate down to their booted feet. They were seated on the couch like prissy little old women, one knitting while the other watched, and both chattering like chicks.

Giving his head a jerk from side to side, Ryou grimaced at how his thoughts wandered and settled his eyes back onto the pages of the book he'd been reading. Transfiguration, this time. The kind professor of that lesson had suggested this book to him after another fruitless lesson of trying to change a needle into a pin. He was an endless source of frustration, he knew. Professor Snape seemed vexed whenever he tried asking help but couldn't understand the answers, and none of the other teachers there seemed to fare back better after a few minutes of his company.

Well, none of the less threatening teachers, he amended. There were a few he avoided like the plague, so these he couldn't vouch for. Then again, there really wasn't much he could ask on the creatures in Professor Hagrid's class that wasn't in a textbook. He couldn't make an excuse for his avoidance of the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, but one wasn't necessary. No matter how harmless a face, that man terrified him.

_Again _his thoughts were wandering. Ryou sighed, slumping further into his seat. Maybe they'd kick him out of he continued to do so poorly. They couldn't justify keeping someone here who couldn't do magic, after all. Only, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to leave this school anymore. His father was here, and an Uncle he'd never before gotten to know.

Also, if all else were to be forgotten, the spirit would be furious if they were banished before he'd accomplished any of his goals. Whatever those were. Shivering despite the warmth of the fire he sat before, Ryou closed his fingers over the bruises staining the skin around his neck. They were faded now to a brown, though the discoloring could be seen if anyone bent close. He'd had to be careful this week with the collar of his robes. Questions couldn't be braved where his spirit was concerned, and curiosity had gotten people killed before.

"Concentrate on your book, idiotic mortal." Ryou jumped in his seat, gaze darting up to meet annoyed amber ones in an otherwise mirrored face. A cruel grin stretched those phantom lips. "Unless you would rather have two pretty little dolls."

The threat was clear. Ryou lowered his heavy eyes back to the book, though there was a tremor in his hands. His spirit was restless, closed up in these halls with no entertainment save the watching of his light. That this boredom could drive the dark one to murder held more than a chance. It was an eventuality, and there was nothing he could do to stave off the other's hunger.

As for the spirit, now that he'd said his piece he turned away to prowl closer to the two girls curled together on the couch. Jayne and Emily didn't deserve for his stupidity to curse them to a hell of never ending darkness.

'_Concentration is key even at this point, regardless of the shape having been willed…'_

"Wouldn't they make pretty trinkets for you, my kitten?" Ryou's knuckles whitened on the edges of the book with the effort it took not to look up into the demon's face.

'…_wand to the left, no higher than your chest but no lower than…'_

"I'm _so_ bored, you understand," went on that mockingly simpering voice. "And my pretty little pet would look nice with these dolls in his arms."

Everything was so tiring. Why, Ryou demanded of himself, did he have to fight so much? Why was he so cursed? Again he wished he could curl in the darkness and release his hold upon himself, letting each part of him scatter to the winds to never be fitted back together.

"Please," he whispered instead, closing his mind to how faces turned in his direction as he spoke to no one, "don't do that. I'll do whatever it is that you're wanting." The only comfort was that it was spoken in Japanese, a language whish he doubted many - if any - in that room knew. It was startling how difficult the language was already becoming, his tongue now accustomed to English, despite how such a short time ago it was the opposite.

"Yes?" The voice was raised higher now. "Louder. English." So Ryou repeated himself, the tremor in his hands showing once more as all those in the room turned perplexed faces his way. But he had done what was demanded, and so he was awarded accordingly. The spirit turned away from the girls and vanished back into the ring.

'_You've yet to learn _anything_, little idiot. I expect more in the future.'_

Ryou was lost in his dark thoughts until a coarse hand slapped down none-too-gently on his forehead. "Are you talking to _yourself_?" There was definite potential in the snark of the Malfoy's voice. Bad, meet worse.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, feeling once more that it'd be nice to escape. "I… just talking to myself." More literally than most, he added in his mind. He even faced himself without the aid of a mirror many of the times he did this. His eyes felt even heavier now that he was faced with this next trial. The blond would bite his teeth into anything made available to him, and carry on drilling on a subject until… until something. Ryou honestly couldn't figure what.

Only, forcing himself to look up at the other, Ryou found that it wasn't so this time. Brows furrowed, the blue-gray eyes of the boy were fixed on him with something that looked alarmingly like concern. "You need to sleep." It was a bit insulting how slow those words were uttered, as if he was a buffoon incapable of understanding what he meant otherwise.

He would have denied that claim, really. He would've explained that he was just thinking aloud, and that, no, he wasn't punishing himself or anything, just, his imagination was a bit screwy by times. Those facts would've probably just made things worse, though, so it was likely best that he wasn't given much choice at all in the matter. Taking things in hand, Draco Malfoy didn't seem to care one whit that Ryou was reading, just hauled him out of his comfy chair. From there Ryou found himself dragged to the dorms and shoved over to his canopy bed. His book was yanked none-too-gently from his hands.

"I'm, I'm not that tired," Ryou made an effort. Not a very good one, but it was the best he found his stunned self able to raise.

"You're nuts. Sleep it off." There was no budge in that voice. Then again, was there ever?

Under that narrowed gaze, Ryou pulled back his quilt and crawled beneath the bedding. He spared a bit of hope towards the book not getting lost, the blond showed no signs of setting it aside. Instead, he tapped it against his hip impatiently until Ryou lowed himself fully beneath the blankets and settled into the bed. The small little blond doll he tugged to his chest.

There Ryou waited, patiently. The Malfoy looked back. Then, turning away, the other boy waved the wand in his other hand with a few words that shut the curtains on Ryou's startled face. And a moment later there was the sound of the door clicking shut.

"Come for a walk with me." That breezy line rendered null all Ryou's imagined success at remaining nondescript. He supposed that it was a losing cause from the start, anyway, as this world of magic was as foreign to him as the Kaibas' lifestyle would be to his favorite mutt friend.

Shy, and not too sure how to decline without sounding rude - also he had the uncomfortable notion that his spirit hated this boy, so was loathe to give his other a chance at him alone - to the other boy, Ryou pinched hid lip between his teeth and hesitated. Just before he could accept, however, Blaise appeared by hid side and locked a firm arm around his narrow shoulders. "Hurry up, we'll be late!"

When Ryou's thoughts caught up to him, they were already outside of the great hall and heading in the direction of the library. Striving to keep pace with the other boy's longer stride, Ryou lifted confused eyes to the other's set face but was given no words of explanation. Had he forgotten about an assignment, Ryou wondered, and this was Blaise's attempt to preserve house points? Was there something they were supposed to be working on together, maybe that he'd missed the instructions on due to a lurking spirit?

"I'm sorry," Ryou started, but was cut off.

"Stay away from Nott. He's bad news."

"I - but - ?"

"Just keep away from him." The hand remained on his shoulders until they entered the library, but dropped inside the doors. Getting the point in a sharp look that he was supposed to be following the other, Ryou tagged alone at Zabini's heels as he led him back through the isles of books to a seemingly predetermined destination. The theme there, judging by the titles and a few of the backs of books he was handed, seemed to be inventive spells and how they _were_ invented.

Curious, Ryou flipped one of the books open but soon had to quit reading to juggle the next few books that were dumped without warning atop the other. "These will be pretty useful for charms. A lot of it'll probably be nonsense to you right now, but some of it should tie in with whatever it is you're reading right now on charms. And pretty much anything else. You know the theory behind a spell, you go over how to create a spell, you start to see similarities."

Setting aside his other confusions in light of this interesting topic, Ryou asked politely, "Do people create spells often?"

"Bloody _hell_ no!" Blaise scoffed. "It takes work to make spells, and more of it than most anyone is stupid enough to put into it. You have to be suicidal to start playing with magic like it's a toy." Ryou tilted his head, and with a scowl Blaise went on. "It's not like cooking or crafts, y'know. You put in a bad mixture of emotions, the whole thing can blow up _your_ face as soon as in it. Just _thinking_ strong thoughts and spell combinations can be damaging enough, if you have enough pent up magical power. And are under lots of stress."

Shuddering, Ryou gave a timid nod and a quick line of understanding. Not that he did, completely, but the concept made sense. Plus, the other boy knew far more than he did, so he was willing to believe what he was told. He'd seen to much in his all-too-long life not to accept anything as possible.

"Is stress a problem because it raises your emotions?" Ryou surprised himself with that question.

The other Slytherin gave him a shrewd look as another book was selected for him. "And because it unbalances the flow in your body." The corners of the boy's lips twitched. "Maybe you're not so stupid after all."

Ryou figured he should probably feel a bit hurt at those words, but the teasing look that had flashed in those eyes more than made up for the words. Plus, he was sure he'd almost seen that smile. Still, when another book landed in the already formidable pile in his arms, enough was enough. "Shouldn't I read and return my other books first, before I get all these?"

Blaise shrugged, dropping another onto the pile, then started to walk over to the counter. Ryou struggled to follow under his load. "Talk to the mudblood. She gets more than that every _day_, says the Crack."

Ryou figured it best to let that go, but he did hold his breath as the librarian looked him over, and then his pile of books. She didn't comment beyond the usual 'bring these back by the appointed time' and 'don't get them dirty'. At last, she didn't until he began to take up his burden once more.

"Keep making use of the library, young lad. You'll catch up with your ingrate peers soon enough if you have enough sense to keep looking to books." Taken aback but smiling his thanks, Ryou hastened to follow the eye-rolling Blaise.

Despite himself, and his resolve to keep distanced from all those here, Ryou felt that he was starting to like the other boy. He only prayed that it would not being the other harm. It was all he ever seemed to offer his friends.

"She's mad, you know. Off her rocker. Completely obsessed with books. They say she even has a real old one in her bed, wrapped in plastic and spelled to not tear. Calls it her husband." Somehow, Ryou doubted this. He said nothing, though, and let the boy prattle on. He seemed to be in a talking mood. And, while Blaise talked, Ryou ran through his mind what had happened up until then, and what he had to do that night according to the professors

There really didn't seem to be enough hours in a day. Or a night.

* * *

The next morning had brought for Ryou his introduction to Quidditch. He'd much rather have remained oblivious to this aspect of wizarding life. That his fellow students would sit on a wooden stick and trust it to soar around through the sky- 

Defying gravity-

Heedless of how _high_ they were off of the ground -

Or how _foolish_ they were to chase violently swiping balls-

-was maddening and insane and many another thing that he couldn't think up at the time, but was sure would aptly apply. Huddled in his heavy cloak and watching under the Malfoy's orders, Ryou had also been subjected to the nastier side of his housemate's humors. Listening to them go on and on about different people, referring to some as 'mudblood' in dark voices and with snickers, Ryou found himself wondering. When he finally was released from the dampness outside and allowed to go for breakfast, the words stayed with him just as much as the queasiness from watching Draco Malfoy and the others on his so-called sports team fly.

The Malfoy had all but demanded his presence near him in every class. When he wasn't next to Draco Malfoy, he'd found himself seated by Blaise Zabini. It had been a bit unsettling, suddenly being the focus of people he didn't really know's attention, but the relief that came with it was that the boy named Theodore Nott could not come too close. For some reason, the pair did not seem to like him. And Nott had been paying a lot of attention to him lately.

"Mudblood is an insult, isn't it." Looking from his hands to the other's face, Ryou waited for Jayne's answer. They were sitting on the heavy couch in the common room, basking in the heat from the fire as the young girl knit. He hadn't really meant to push himself into her company, but after his classes and supper, this was where they'd both ended up. All he was thankful for was that it was her that was keeping him company, and not any of the boys he'd been to classes with. Nott, especially, made him nervous, though the others were equally unsettling.

"Yes," she sounded out slowly. The scrapes of her knitting needles stopped. At how solemn her cute little face was arranging its features, Ryou felt relieved that he'd finally decided to ask this _her_ this question, and not one of the boys. "It means that someone's got dirty blood. Muddy, you know." Ryou nodded to show he was listening. "It's a _really_ bad thing to say. The older boys use that insult all the time, but I don't. _My_ parents would punish me horridly if they hard of me saying it."

"Does it mean someone doesn't have a lot of money in their family?"

She shook her head violently, the pigtails in her hair slapping her cheeks. "No, not that. It means, means they don't have - well, their blood isn't clean. Isn't pure." Ryou let his confusion show in his eyes and May sighed. "They use it for muggleborns. And it's stupid."

Sensing that this was an uncomfortable topic for the young girl, Ryou nodded his understanding so that it could be dropped. Jayne squinted at him. "You aren't trying to figure out how to use it, are you? You're a lot better than that, you know. Just because the other boys throw the word around doesn't mean you should, too."

Unable to stop his smile, Ryou once again shook his head in negative. "I just keep hearing it and I was wondering what they meant."

"They're just stupid," she repeated firmly. "Anyway, is it rue that you keep dolls in your bed?"

This time Ryou flushed a dark red and sank down against the couch. A spark shone in her eyes at this all but admittance. "Really! I heard Malfoy complaining about them to Zabini earlier, but I didn't want to believe it without checking with you first. I like it!" A chortle came at the end of those words. "There isn't a lot that bugs Malfoy, and it's _awesome_ that you can make him uncomfortable!"

Startled by this uncharacteristic statement, insofar as what other Slytherins seemed to think, Ryou almost forgot to be scandalized. Most of the others there had seemed to dote on the young blond and his words to a point of reverence. "Don't you like Draco Malfoy?" He pitched his words low, not wanting to get her into trouble with anyone in their dorm. Not that anyone was lose enough to overhear them.

The girl shrugged, and once again resumed her knitting. "I don't mind pay him much mind either way. He's just a boy. Not like you." It was quite possible that his face was going to burst into flames if this kept up. "Boys are stupid, and he's really loud. You should put some of those dolls in his bed." Here she perked up, and almost dropped her needles n her excitement. "Oh! Can I go up and see them later?"

Hastily scooting back and getting to his feet, Ryou gave a polite decline to her request. "You'd better not. I don't think the boys would lie it if I took you to their room. And… I'll bring one down to you sometime."

Jayne nodded, her eyes dimming a bit. "I guess you're right. And the crack would probably spread nasty rumors."

He faltered in his escape, curiosity putting his feet to a stop. "The crack?" It was starting to seem to him as if he'd never be on the same level, linguistically, as the people around him.

"We _are_ in a castle, y'know," the small girl teased. "Why would there be grapes inside a castle?" Ryou was at a loss. "Or chickens? Or geese?" He was still floundering. "We call the gossip chain here the Crack." This made a bit more sense, but still. "Do you get it?" No. The girl gave a small huff. "Oh, go away. Emily is on her way down, now, and I'm getting a headache. Go play with your dolls and leave us be."

Figuring it would be his only chance, Ryou followed that order and settled himself in his dorm to read. It was a heavy weight settling onto the edge of his bed that stirred him from its pages. Looking, he found the Malfoy boy perched there. "Next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend," the other stated as soon as he knew he had Ryou's attention. Not really understanding what those words meant, Ryou canted his head to the side. The blond either didn't notice or didn't care. "You're coming with Blaise and I. Those annoyances you've adopted are _not_ tagging along."

Ryou found himself at a loss for words. Okay, so he was going somewhere with those two boys that weekend. And the girls, and , weren't going to be going with them. He doubted that they'd have wanted to go wherever it was they were going, anyway. Neither seemed to have too high an opinion of either Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini. But why did the blond want _him_ there?

The blond, taking his silence for assent, shifted so that he was sitting more on the bed and snatched the book out of Ryou's hands. The book was turned this way and that under those probing silver eyes before being cast aside. "You still haven't turned your matchstick into a pin, and that book isn't going to help," the boy drawled as the book clunked down on the wooden surface of the bedside table. "I don't have anything better to do. Go get a pin from one of your bloody annoyances and get back here with it."

End Ch. 14

All done!

_Special Thanks To:_

Hi y'all!

Thank you goes to everyone else, too! I hope to post responses soon in my live journal! XD

My only complaint? Spellcheck is not Canadian friendly. It won't keep my u's! Well, Canadian and European. I think you guys who are in Europe put u in lots of words, like favourite, too, right? And other countries… I could be wrong. All I know is that spellcheck is anti normal spelling (for me) and so I am forced to conform or suffer the red lines of doom… … … …

**Reviews if you can, please! Even if it's only to tell me I'm insane : )**

**-Oh! And for those of you who still like me, please let me know if I missed anything in this chapter spelling-wise or such. I tried my best to go over it, but I'm in a bit of a rush tonight!- **

As for the questions I've been asked, the answers are going to be answered, never you fear! I'm going to try to force what I can into the next chapter, and what I can't will be answered afterwards. Right now, though, Bakura's actions are unknown. As for what the Egyptians are doing, well, that can be found out soon. Not just yet, though!


	16. While You Watch

Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/n: This chapter should be better. I enjoyed writing what I did out on paper, and I hope you enjoy what it turned into!

Hmm... My little scene breaks of my own don't seem to carry over. Star Wiggly line Star, see. Sorry! Eek, I'm gonna add the ones they have for us :)

Chapter 16 While You Watch

They had been working on the pin for well over an hour, and no matter what it refused to do more than turn an off-gray. "Forget this. I've had it. I'm going to bed." Draco was giving in, it seemed, much to Ryou's relief. The blond was an aggressive teacher, and his pupil painfully inept.

Taking the chance for escape while it was offered, Ryou bid the boy goodnight and headed to his curtained bed. As he crawled into it he wondered at where he was and what it was that he was doing. How strange, the things that this school expected of a student. Would Yugi have wanted to come, had the opportunity presented itself to the small one? Would he have fared better than Ryou in the face of magic, or been upset and stressed at its illusiveness? Then again, little Yugi hardly had any trouble with new things. While not the best student academically, when presented with a challenge the light always won out over it. How about the others?

'Don't climb a mountain if yer allergic to the stars.' Burrowing into his blankets, Ryou smiled in the darkness cast by his curtains. Joey might have been the biggest idiot he knew, but even on the other side of the continent he could still make him smile. When he'd said those foolish words, Yugi had been pouting over the attention being paid to him since his victory in yet another high-class tournament. The mutt, in one of his few moments of wit, had mussed the other boy's hair and made that declaration. Even Yugi had laughed, blushing. And then thrown a pillow at his brash friend's head.

Ryou wondered if they were hanging out right now. Some nights, he knew, the two stayed up at Yugi's, playing games and talking about nothing. Tristan was with them sometimes, too. He'd never been asked, himself, but that made sense. Even though they were his only friends, he was never very close to them.

He wondered where the pharaoh was buried.

A thick, bare arm looped about his waist and brought him into the Egyptian's lap. Ryou's muscles tensed, then relaxed, and he slumped against the robed chest with a worn sigh. The long fingers combing against his scalp were gentle, and the beat of the heart as calm as ever it was.

Sometimes, Ryou wondered if that heart had been so quiet in life, calm even when anger thrummed through the ancient's form. The skin was warm, almost as if these millennia had yet to make it forget the desert, a heat that was seeping into Ryou's frigid cheek as it rested against a plain of muscles. The strong hand pet down his back, fingering the bumps of his spine through the black robe. A real hand, flesh and blood and _there_. The form created by the ring.

The soothing touch weighed down his eyes and Ryou yawned, curling his fingers in the unfamiliar material the spirit wore where it tied just below the navel.

* * *

"No!" The potions master grabbed Ryou's hand before he could add what he thought to be the next ingredients to the boiling concoction in his cauldron. "_What_ are you trying to _do_! Are you _completely inept_? Put that in there now and we'll all be in the hospital wing!" 

Saying that the potions professor was stressed would be a massive understatement. Terrified by what he'd almost done, and shaken by the state of hysteria his normally caustic professor was fast approaching, Ryou shrank back in his seat and tried to focus his eyes on the table in front of him. His tearful apology went ignored. "You're coming back here as soon as supper is through! _Do not_ continue that mess you've made." And, to ensure that that last order was followed, the man banished the potion for good measure.

The half of the class opposite his house had snickered loudly at the entire scene. Ryou almost _died_ of mortification. He _had_ tried hard! It was just so difficult, and he couldn't understand what he was supposed to do. No matter that the books he'd read boasted on being the greatest place to get the basics before brewing, they were no help. Mightn't it be that he was just unreachable?

"_Silence!_" Professor Snape snarled, whirling on the other side of the room. "20 points from Gryffindor for laughing at another student." The laughter ended, but glares came aplenty. Ryou preferred the laughter. It, at least, wasn't as threatening.

Class ended eventually, after what seemed hours of embarrassment and rising nerves. Still flaming of face, Ryou padded along on the heels of the other two boys who seemed to have taken him under their wings. He still wasn't comfortable with the idea of having friends, but Draco's ultimatum and Blaise's orders to look out for him made avoidance too difficult. So, he forced himself to settle into a fold of their tentative friendship and that was that. There had been no option for him to begin with, seeing as how the blond seemed to expect to receive what he wanted. What good he was to the boy Ryou had no clue, but it wasn't his place to ask. Instead, he just followed and tried to listen as best he could to the other boys' words.

He'd woken with a headache that morning, but it wasn't bad enough to keep him from class. Even had it been so, his spirit would probably not have allowed him to skip. The crawling pace of his improvement was a subject of great irritation to the one dwelling within his ring.

On their way to their next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ryou found himself being shoved backwards by Blaise as four Gryffindors pushed past. "Out of the way, _snakes_," the girl snarled over her masculine companions' shoulders. They kept going, backs to the sneers of Blaise and Draco.

"Seventh year Gryffindors. Stay clear of them. They're stupid, but they're dangerous," Blaise supplied at Ryou's troubled look. Draco dropped his needlessly restraining arm from Ryou's chest. "Ignore them if Draco, Crabbe, Goyle or I are not with you."

Startled by this, Ryou turned his disbelieving eyes onto his two companions. "They wouldn't just… attack me, would they?" His words weakened as the comparable Joey and Seto Kaiba crossed his mind. The blond would spring for the brunet's jugular without the slightest incentive.

Both of the other two boys made noises of assent as they continued towards the next class.

Ryou thought on this until he heard Blaise snicker. The latter, noticing the shorter boy's curious glance, smirked and explained. Apparently, Draco had glanced into the open bag over his shoulder and his comment had been, upon seeing the three new books added with the school texts, "You read more than that mudblood bitch of the Weasel's." Ryou frowned, nibbling on his lip uncertainly. It was none of his business, but then, it really wasn't nice how Draco always spoke about her, was it? "Why don't you like Granger-san, Draco?"

"She's a bloody cow, and a big mouth at that -"

The students around them parted easily, as if only too glad to avoid coming close to touching them.

"And you always call her Weasel's mate-"

Some of the youngest even seemed to rush past them, expressions nervous.

"Bloody hell, Ryou, it's obvious that they're stuck on each other!"

People there were so strange. Then again, he had to admit that the two he walked with were pretty intimidating. Especially when acting annoyed, like they were right then.

"But, she's always following that other boy around -" Ryou paused at the scornful look on Draco's face.

"Potter. Yeah, so? She thinks she's his mother. She's got a superiority complex to go with that mind of hers. It's given her a big, fat head. I don't know how those morons put up with it."

They turned into the defense classroom and Ryou had to keep himself from darting back out when he came too close to their teacher. Draco noticed his fear and scowled at him. That was unfair, as Draco really had no right to be upset by his being nervous. Their talk the night before had made Ryou's fears around the man double. Without knowing any reason he'd already been terrified enough.

"Don't get too close to Professor Lupin, Ryou." Draco had been continuously giving him new orders, but this was the oddest yet. Since he'd already found that the man made him nervous, Ryou just nodded obediently. Draco seemed to see it necessary to go on. "The man's a werewolf, you know."

Professor Lupin was a were- "A-" A chill of terror seized his throat. Werewolves. Old movies playing in black and white late at night came to his mind. There was that one where the man had to hide what he was, fleeing mid church and so much senseless killing. Such were true beasts?

"But- but he's a teacher! Surely he can't do anything to his students!" His voice had rang with a note of hysteria, but who could blame him?

"Wouldn't be the first time," Blaise muttered darkly. "Just steer clear of him. His blood is bad, anyway." It always came back to that with those two. Ryou wondered sadly what they would think if they knew his own blood was just as bad. Still, not even that shameful thought could dispel the fear that seemingly gentle yet still so terrifying man now awoke in him.

At the opposite end of Ryou's thoughts, Professor Remus J. Lupin was having a similar experience - minus the reason to go with.

How could such a dainty child make the wolf's hackles raise? Remus had the unsettling impression that, were the wolf out, he'd scamper away from that boy with his tail between his legs. It had been the same last class, only this time the expectance of the emotion kept him from jerking in the almost physical shock of the wolf's fears. This was Albus' nephew. The boy was cared for greatly by the old man, treasured even. The old headmaster had given him so much, was that what made this fear? The idea that he might disappoint one who had done so much for him, given him more of a chance in life than any had done before, by not doing well enough by the man's last blood relative?

He wanted to think so. The wolf inside told him no. If only the beast could pass on more than emotions and feelings, then this might be clearer.

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts ended and the two boys who had been sticking so close to Ryou almost had to run to keep up with his leaving the classroom. Professor Lupin had been about to speak to him but there was no way, _no way_ he would stay and find out why. Instead, they made record time to History of Magic. No matter how monotonous the class always was, there was never a day when Ryou did not relish entering those doors. They meant that he would be safe from the man he left behind in the last class. 

"-became head of the goblin army by 1782-" fourty minutes into class and it seemed like so much longer. Ryou rested his chin on his arms, watching the ghost through his bangs. "In 1812, Napoleon-" a wizard? Odd. Even stranger was that the man had been an instigator in goblin battles. Of course, wasn't he supposed to have been pretty short? Could the magic in him have made him pass for a man when he might have been a goblin? Or maybe they weren't talking about goblins at all anymore? Despite his attempt to follow along, the professor's dead voice kept sliding out of his focus.

Raising his drooping eyes to the front of the room, Ryou noticed that the ghost was looking over his way as he spoke. His spirit bared sharp teeth the phantom's way. Binns jerked back, his drone falling off mid-word. The ghost looked scared. Could he see the spirit? There was no way that he couldn't have. Suddenly more awake than he wanted to be, Ryou tensed.

"Get on with it," his ancient one snarled. The withered old ghost quaked but picked up on the topic that he had been discussing - several paragraphs before he had ended. Only the bushy-haired Granger seemed to notice, looking from Ryou to the teacher with a frown that made Ryou fear for her. The smirk upon his watching spirit's lips was dangerous.

Class went on. The dark one leaned over the back of Ryou's seat, lips brushing the light one's ear. _"The dead can see but know better than to interfere. Let us see if the living, who cannot see, are so smart."_

It was impossible for him to even try to pay attention after that. All he could do was alternate between staring at his desk and shooting what he hoped were surreptitious glances Granger's way. Draco and Blaise, sleeping away to one side of him, never even noted the difference. That he was grateful for.

Lunch had passed and it was time for the last class of the day. Divination was by far the most normal class that Ryou had, which made him very, very sad. There were two teachers for it, one of which being a centaur. The other, she looked a very lot like a praying mantis.

By light of the miniature candles, Ryou followed the chart of symbols down to where his own intercepted with Draco's. Some trick of ink and firelight made this one interception flicker with the gleaming crimson of damp blood. The first site of it shook him, but now he wondered it it all had been planned, including who got which cards. It would have been possible for her to have stacked the deck and planned who got which symbol, but then again why would a professor go on with such a farce?

It wasn't that he wished to discredit his professor.

"Follow the path," she repeated again, going on. "Watch yourselves closely and do _not_ blink. No, dears - not each other, watch your representation. Yes. Watch, wait…"

In olive robes and a midnight wrap, she swept between their tables while paying them little to no attention. With her sheer wrap dipping long beneath the bend of her elbows and the thick-rimmed glasses owling her eyes, she again brought to his mind a praying mantas.

Blaise leaned closer to his sheet as if in intense concentration and took the chance to mutter to them, "She's more insane than Dumbledore." It wasn't a difficult jump for his mind to make. After all, his uncle _did_ seem something of an eccentric, and what else could you think about this woman swooping over them like a moth?

Blaise smirked as he drew straight, an expression mirrored on Draco's face. No smile threatened Ryou's lips. Insanity was dangerous.

The bloodlike lines of the symbol he watched blinked out of focus and he blinked despite himself. Worried that he'd ruined his assignment - he'd been watching it as close as he could, never closing his eyes despite the fact that those around him made no bones about ignoring their papers - he leaned closer but again his point of focus wavered. Hi heart lurched needlessly, for seconds later it was back where it had been. Not even curiosity over Draco's expression could lift his gaze, but the touch of cold fingers on his neck did. His spirit leaned over him, semi-transparent form needlessly supported by the hand on the back of Ryou's neck. The spirit's expression was blank, eyes upon the page. Did he see it, too, Ryou wondered uneasily as he turned his eyes back to the page. He didn't want the teacher to call him on looking away.

She expects something to happen, he reflected. His spirit must, too, else those ancient eyes would be focused elsewhere. "Besides its vanishing," the spirit muttered lowly. Ryou nodded the spirit's way needlessly. His confusion would be drank straight from his mind, there was no reason to respond.

A spirit pulled at the spirit's mouth. Ryou couldn't pull away, but flinched back as much as he could when a semi-transparent hand slammed down on the sheet of parchment to block Ryou's view - only, that was wrong. He could usually see through those false hands…

"It's …gone… I guess?" Blaise muttered in wonder. It had been obvious from the start the other boy expect naught to happen but a boring class. Ryou and his spirit both snapped their gazes the other boy's way, Ryou startled and his spirit amused. The dark one moved his hand and Ryou looked down from the frown on Blaise's face. There was the symbol, back again. "Or not," Blaise muttered, eyebrows furrowing. Draco looked equally confused. The students around them were shooting odd looks their way. Obviously, their images were staying put.

Feeling a headache forming behind his eyes, Ryou sighed and let his eyes close as the darkness set about playing a cruel game of peek-a-boo with the symbol and his partners. There was no point in this, he decided blandly, nerves from earlier forgotten.

Mystical-voiced, their teacher enquired over what they had seen. Draco sneered but Blaise reported that the image had flickered in and out of focus. Other reports varied by pair, some responding when picked out that theirs had done anything from turn into a frog to other more elaborate, probably invented answers. Only one dared comment that theirs had done nothing, and that pairing found themselves on the receiving end of a pitying yet severe look from the teacher. "Some eyes are veiled," she commented in a simpering tone. "I cannot help those with no talent."

When finished doing her rounds, the Professor spoke a few more lines of vapouric sense and then bid the class to exit. Ryou started to stand when the others did, but a shift in the image brought his heart thudding in his throat. Where their symbol had been on the paper, bow the lines ran red with blood. Draco's hand fell on it while he watched, and blood seeped over his fingers as they clenched over the image and crumpled it into a ball. The vision lasted only long enough for a gasping of breath, then it was gone and the blood vanished as the paper was flung back over Draco's shoulder to hit two excitedly chattering Gryffindors.

Desperate to get out, Ryou hurried ahead of the two down the trap door and rushed to the cooler hallways. The two caught up, Draco muttering about him acting a fool so far today, and then they fell into a silence. The boy was right. It had to just be nerves, anyway. What else could it have been?

Something cold trickled down his neck, the feeling of eyes digging beneath his flesh. Ryou missed a step and caught himself, then cast a nervous glance around. A man, across the hall, slouched against the stone of the wall and smirked his way. It was an eerily familiar smirk on a face too English . One gloved hand raised to the man's eat, pantomiming the stroking of a dangling earring where none was in the man's ear. 'Hello Kitten,' the unfamiliar mouth shaped soundlessly. Someone bumped into his back when he stopped. He took a few uncertain steps forward, looking again at the man and stopping. People were moving around him, Blaise and D well ahead of him.. They were stopping, frowning, looking back through the crowded halls. He again, for the third time, looked at this Englishman. _What were they doing?_

* * *

Malik's captive had moved on and Ryou was hiding out in the library instead of going to supper. Whether from a return of his cold or just stress, the slight headache from that morning had expanded to a scratchy ache swelling to cover the top of his head that squeezed at odds with the pounding behind his temples. Reading was becoming impossible. Sniffling, Ryou sighed in exhaustion and checked what the clock read. Six. Blinking back tears and fighting a sneeze, he shut the book on the last page of the chapter. Trying to read and understand only made him hurt more. That the black lines had been blurring and collapsing into each other had been no help. 

Pushing the book away, he buried his head in his folded arms. It would be so much easier if he could just get rid of his headache. One more word and he was sure that he would pass out from pain. Being there was no good. He just wanted to go curl up in his bed, but that wasn't going to happen until he went to see Professor Snape. Hopefully this visit wouldn't be a repeat of earlier that day, but he doubted in his luck.

A newspaper caught his eye before he made it all the way to the door. Picking it up, he read the title and felt a flicker of amusement. ' The '. The article beneath was more sobering, but for some reason he just couldn't put it down. Then came the words 'you-know-who'. _This_ was a gag paper? Filled with such heart-stopping sadness and cruelty? Again Ryou doubted that he would ever be able to understand this world. But he had to go, he didn't want to be in trouble.

Not that his being on time helped. They were doomed from the start.

"You don't _have_ to be good at it," Snape sighed out irritably, smoothing back greasy black hair in impatience. Ryou could practically see the lines of tension in the man's face, they had to be giving him a headache. He knew that his own head hurt badly enough. "Just do it. You only need to learn how to brew basic potions."

The professor was stressed, but Ryou was equally so. Several hours of non-stop work had passed by this time. His unruly white hair kept making his dark-smudged eyes blink incessantly. "But I _can't_," the boy practically wailed, gazing miserably down at the assortment of ingredients scattered over his workspace. His hands were blackened by the things he'd been cutting, his palms dotted with strange liquids and clinging dust. Neither of them were getting anywhere in this session, no matter that curfew had long crept by.

"Just start again," Professor Snape growled. Inside, the man was cursing that muggle for keeping the boy out of school for so many years. The child was near to tears, ordinarily somber brown eyes anguished and near to desperation. Perhaps they wouldn't be getting anywhere this night…

Still, he had to try. He refused to let this child fall any more behind than he already was.

It was the next day and Ryou was again sitting in the library, this time with his chair pulled close to the back wall so that he could watch outside. Flying crows gleamed blue as the hazy light caught their backs. Face pressed to glass, Ryou's sigh fogged his vision. He let his nose slip to streak it before it faded in full. The glass was cool and damp, but felt good to his feverish skin.

There was the feeling of something smacking the back of his head. Ryou yelped in shock and his hand shot up to touch where it struck, his body curling in on itself. Loud snickers and hoots met his actions. "Awww! The poor little snake, he got something in his hair." There were three boys and a girl. Those were the same seventh years, the ones he was warned to stay away from. Ryou felt the old fear couple with his embarrassed shame. If his spirit were to return then…

His fingers found a sticky glob clinging to his hair. Gum. His face blanched and then he flushed scarlet in embarrassment.

"Back off, Gryffindorks," a snide voice interrupted. To Ryou's surprise, the trio jerked straight and took several steps back. The words were so much like Draco and Blaise's, but the voice was not. Looking up, his hand still touching the mass tangled irreversibly in his locks, Ryou's breath hitched. Nott, his mind supplied. Another that he had been told to steer clear of. The tell youth was swaggering his way, expression superior and threatening at the same time.

"Stupid kid," the girl muttered, spinning on her heel and stalking off. "It isn't like he's any fun. Let the snake be."

"He has better company now, anyway," one of the larger boys snickered. Not one of them walked close to Nott as the tall boy all but snarled in their faces. When they made themselves scarce, Nott turned back to him and Ryou felt his himself sag in relief. No matter that he wasn't supposed to be around this one, he was better than those others.

"What'd those idiot lions do?" Nott moved uncomfortably close and the released tension returned to Ryou's muscles. Still, he held himself still as the large boy pulled his hand from his head and inspected the knot of gum - strawberry, if the smell was placed right - and hair. "Disgusting. Here."

Gentle fingers took up the mess and began prying it from his hair. "Does it have to be cut?" Ryou didn't want to ask but had to. The moment he knew what they had done this fear had assaulted him. His hair was meant to be long, it always had been. The spirit would be _so angry_ if he had to have any at all removed.

"None," the other comforted, moving closer as he kept scraping it out with his nails. Glob after glob was dropped carelessly to the floor, stringy slivers and rolled clots. "Disgusting freaks."

"You don't have to help," Ryou murmured. The boy was being nice and all he could do was wish him away. Ryou felt ashamed of himself. And what reason did the other have for helping him? He tried to join in the picking but his hands were shoved nonetoogently out of the way.

"Nothing to it," Nott responded in that strange voice of his. Finally, after a little longer, the other moved back. "Keep your hands down," he added firmly. Ryou watched as the boy swished his want and tossed out a spell with an aim at Ryou's own head. With a yelp the white-haired youth tried to duck but it was too late - and luckily so, for when the tingly light struck his head the remaining gum melted away like snowflakes dripping from his hair.

"Th-thank you," Ryou stuttered, hand still half-raised towards his head. "I should, I need to go-" And he ran back to his dorm, where the best chance at safety could be found.

End Chapter

_A/n: No amount of apologies can make up for my horrid neglect of you all. I am sooo sorry. I tried to get this out, it just wouldn't work. Please, if I missed anything, let me know? Any mistakes will be fixed as soon as I get home from work/receive the review!_

_Thank you all for reading and I hope to hear from you!_


	17. Your Lips Twisted

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Continued Survival

Summary: As if dealing with the things life has already thrown at him isn't hard enough, now Ryou is being sent off by his Father to England, to stay with a man named Albus... (Harry Potter and YGO, what else!)

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Disclaimer: Alright. Before this goes any further, I just want to state that I in no way own either Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh…

A/n: VERY MANY THANKS go out to my amazing beta **Mersedes**!

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Chapter 17 - Your Lips Twisted

He was wandering outside the morning, mind still intent upon a conversation from the night before. They had been talking about the boy, Nott.

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"His father is a follower of the Dark Lord; his mother just a lackey. She's useless - not even worth marking," Draco had said.

"The dark lord…" Ryou shivered as the vision of the serpentine figure flashed in his mind's eye. Such a beast, and to have so many followers. "Is he… what is it that he wants?" There seemed to be so much death, and even the jokes seemed to have such bittersweet stings.

Draco and Blaise both gaped at him. "You're kidding me," Blaise muttered in disbelief. "He murders people every day, how can you not know what he wants?"

"He wants to remove the muggles and muggleborns from our world. From any world in general, really," Draco elucidated when it seemed obvious Blaise wasn't going to expound.

"Why did he start against people who can't do magic?" It seemed an innocent enough question to Ryou, but the blond's brow furrowed as if the thought had never so much as crossed his mind.

"Lots of us feel the same way, you know. I don't like them coming to my school, either. Or living where I live and eating what I eat."

"I know," Ryou murmured, wringing his sleeve. "You've said so before. But would you really go out and kill them, too?" It was more personal a question than he probably would have dared before, but something in Ryou was driving him. Curiosity, he felt sure, though it was rare for it to rear its head as it had been doing lately. Before this, he'd been more comfortable letting life pass on its own. Make no waves and you'll stay afloat.

"I might," Draco informed him haughtily, straightening into his self-important pose. "It's an option I haven't ruled out after I graduate."

"Like your father," Ryou murmured. Draco sniffed at that. There was pride in his eyes, and Ryou felt that there was nothing more that could be said. Draco had given him the truth.

Why would he want them dead, Ryou wondered somberly. This was a war, and war brought death. Only, was this truly a war, or was it an empty one-sided battle? None but those with magic seemed to know of its existence, and thus far he'd seen little to no resistance from those his spirit termed 'another facet of this game.'

His father had no magic, which made him a target for those who wsanted his kind dead. How, he wondered, had his father met his mother with the line so taut between the twin worlds? Of course, not everyone must feel the same way, since the girls had told him that most of the students had a normal or, in this world's terms, muggleborn parent. Many a student was even born from two non-magical parents. Muggles, that is.

His father was normal, but he wasn't. It was impossible to imagine turning on your family just because you had a gift that they did not. Would some do that? Ally themselves with that serpent man and kill off the parent that they had who couldn't do magic?

Memories of his earliest opinion, that this was a cult, arose to trouble Ryou anew. All the signs connected with what he'd always heard of them, and it wasn't so far-fetched at all. One day, would the pull of what Draco had been taught lead him to his father's side in the crypt-like fortress? Would it lead the blond to a life of death behind double masks?

Why he said it Ryou didn't know, but he found himself standing and hugging his chest, his long hair falling and shielding his face. "Someday you might kill my father." Not staying to witness any reaction, Ryou walked down the stairs to his dorm and the silent solitude of his bunk with its dolls.

* * *

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It was later when the two other boys came up to their shared dormitory. Having left the curtains around his bed open, Ryou knew when they entered and hoped that it wasn't to pick on him. Then he saw the blond's face and confusion reigned as Draco came up to him, leading Blaise and looking like a chastised kid. The aristocrat's expression was tight, mouth set, but his eyes showed both uncertainty and nervousness.

"You're a muggleborn." Draco declared, forthright.

Ryou gave a shy nod, and then explained that he had never known of wizards and the like up until so short a time ago. Draco listened to his words in silence, then gave a jerk of a nod. "You're a half-blood, then," he commented. "That's not so bad," he added before shifting the current of the conversation. Had Ryou finished his homework? Was there a problem with the latest reading assigned him in charms? What did he have left to work on? Puzzlement took its time being replaced by startled comfort and realization. A warmth filled his chest. Draco was trying to both suck up and still retain his high-bred dignity. It made Ryou feel warm, the knowledge that the boy still cared despite all the hard words that had been spoken towards those of his line.

He broke from his thoughts when his ears caught the sound of a pained mew. Startled, Ryou stood rooted to his spot and scanned the nearby bushes. A patch of ginger caught his eye, moving restlessly between the branches of the bush. Another whine, pitiful and pained, loosed him from his stupor and Ryou crept closer to the injured creature. When he closed in on the bush he found it to be a large feline, its ears back and its paw stabbed through by a thick… thorn? It looked almost like a nail, despite its obvious wooden makeup.

"Shhh," he murmured softly, kneeling next to the bush and taking in the scene. Beautiful eyes turned his way, the owner of those orbs stilling as if what she saw in him meant that all would now be well. It hurt, knowing that such a creature could trust so blindly. His presence could easily mean either life _or_ death for her, after all. Still, he would help her if he could and pray that there would be no darkness near to watch.

The thorn was embedded deep in the ground and was hard to remove. However, out it eventually came and with much blood from the injured feline. She only reared back a bit, paw now off the ground and held to her inspection. Not letting the cat have time to take matters into her own hands, he gentled her out of the bush and then sat on the ground with her in his lap, blood dripping down them both now.

"If my other was here," the small boy chuckled hollowly, stroking the orange fur as she licked at the injury, "he'd kill you for the attention I've paid you." The large feline butted its head against his hand when it fell still and he scratched her ears. "Or, just because he could."

While he scratched, its luminous eyes met his. It was a beautiful cat. Looking into those intelligent eyes, Ryou wondered over how lucky someone was to be gifted such a companion. Those eyes gave him the feeling the cat knew what his words meant, no matter the species gap. He wished that he could keep her. However, he knew who she belonged to and it was time to take the lady home. The name on her collar dispelled any hopes of that, the name Hermione printed clearly with the word Gryffindor underneath. So, he gathered her into his arms gently and headed out to track find some bandages for her paw before tracking her owner down.

* * *

It has to be done, he reminded himself firmly, stepping into the light of the library. No matter how dark the dungeons and many of the lower-leveled hallways, this chamber of the castle always seemed to glow during the day with sunlight and newness. Age clung to all else in this old keep, but not here, which was curious since many of the books looked to be older than the very shelves they sat on. It was as if the library stepped out of time and existed in its own plain. As with every other time he entered it, he felt the heavy air of the halls be replaced in his chest by fresh, though maybe dust-tainted air. Only, this time, the tension in his shoulders did not ease.

Ryou swallowed the choking fear rising in his throat and approached the tense Gryffindors with Bastet cuddled into his chest. It didn't matter how much they hated him, Granger-chan should have her pet back. She obviously loved her. No creature-man or animal-could be so loving and trusting without having experienced the same gentleness.

The Gryffindor trio were gathered by a window in the library pouring over a rumpled sheet of parchment, their three heads bent over it, their bodies crowded close to conceal it from curious eyes. "She has to be in the forest," Hermione exclaimed, eyes still pouring over the straying dots on the parchment in desperate search for one labeled 'Crookshanks'. "There's nowhere else she can be. She _never_ stays out all night and if she isn't on the map then where else could she be!"

"The monster's probably fine there, 'Mione," Ron offered in comfort, not looking up from the Marauder's map to see her teary glare. "It'd probably scare away anything there that-hey, where's the name of that albino? He's not on the map?"

"He isn't?" Harry frowned pensively, searching for Bakura's name. "Where-okay, there's Malfoy and his two ogres. Zabini is there…" He grazed a fingertip across the Slytherin dorm to a corner by two younger Slytherin girls whose names he recognized from third-year sorting, one of the few he actually made it to.

"I knew it!" Ron declared, eyes lighting in fevered excitement. "He's likely some death eater, I told you nobody transfers this late."

"Really, Ron," Hermione fumed, skimming the map from top to bottom, "you're forgetting what we're looking for. Crookshanks. It makes perfect sense for some poor parents to want to send their son to Hogwarts, safest known school, with You-Know-Who(See what she calls him) back. Besides, he's probably Professor Bakura's son, that new Muggle Studies professor. See? He's still here." Her lips thinned as her continued search proved fruitless. "He really _isn't_ on here," she muttered.

"Like with Moody," Ron explained hurriedly, leaving even closer to them as his hands moved animatedly. "He was Barty Crouch Jr., remember? Look and see whose name you don't know in Slytherin!"

Harry sighed and pushed back his glasses, fixing his emerald gaze on his best mate. "Ron, not only do we not know the name of every student in the castle but it'd be impossible to tell which house each belongs to."

"We'll just have to keep a watch on the Slytherin common room, then," Ron continued, undaunted. "Besides, we know it's a Death Eater so we can look for the names of the ones we recognize."

"We don't know all of them, Ron. There could be any number, especially now with Voldemort's return out in the open. For all we know we could even be sleeping in the same dorm as-"

"_Gryffindor_, 'Mione," Ron pointed out distastefully. "Gryffindors don't turn out Death Eaters."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head sadly at her friend's naivety. It was Harry who brought up the point she hesitated in voicing. "Wormtail, Ron. Remember him? Scabbers?" The pet rat Ron had received from his brother when he was younger and taken to Hogwarts with him from day one. An animagus, one who could turn into animals, in disguise. The Weasley winced.

"There's always an exception," he waved the words away with a grimace. "Slytherin is the real Death Eater house, you know that." Neither of his friends voiced an objection.

Hermione noticed someone stopping uncertainly near them and glanced up, lips still pressed and prepared to give them a haughty look to send them on their way when she saw not only the object of their current search but her missing pet as well. She jumped to her feet, leaving two dumbfounded boys on the ground as she enthusiastically called out to the pet she feared she'd lost.

"Crookshanks!" The orange tabby perked up at her true name on the excited girl's lips and leapt down from Ryou's arms to limp to the bushy-haired teen and rub against her keeper's robed legs. Smiling wistfully, he took a self-conscious step back from the girl. She now crouched and was babying her returned pet as it smugly accepted the petting and attentions with a rumbling purr. Ryou hugged his arms to himself, watching.

They were both so happy, he saw, and he felt the tightness in his chest loosen as he watched. Sometimes it was all too easy to forget the happiness to be found in life, but times like these were what were important, not the nights of fear or hours of death and shadow.

The other two, her friends, had their heads bent over something, expressions twisted in confusion. The red-head jerked his head up and stood, taking a threatening step closer and leaving the black-haired boy to his study. Bright blue eyes snapped against Ryou's brown in unexpected anger and suspicion.

"What were you doing with 'Mione's cat?"

Ryou returned his gaze in open surprise, brown eyes widened in disbelief. "Why-what do you mean? I found her hurt last night. I did not know whose she was until earlier today, honestly. Bas-Crookshanks, she is a lovely cat. I knew her owner would miss her, I was not going to keep her." The accusation struck a nerve he hadn't known was open to injury and Ryou pulled back another step from the towering red-haired boy.

"Bullock! What'd you do to the brute's paw?"

Ryou flinched. How could someone think he'd purposely do something like that to so fair and gentle a creature? Not even his spirit would do such for the mere pleasure of it. Not to a feline, anyway. He backed away a step further from the furious boy, tightening his arms around himself. "Nothing," he entreated, "I promise I didn't. Why would I hurt her?"

"How should _I_ know? You snakes are the ones who get off doing those things!"

"Ron!" The girl looked up from her orange pet with brown eyes angry in reproach.

Potter frowned from his spot, the only one to have remained seated, and shook his unruly-haired head. It startled Ryou when he took the girl's side. "C'mon, Ron, forget it. You have no proof."

"I-" Ryou swallowed heavily, edging further away until he collided with a bookshelf, shaking several heavy volumes from their place and sending them tumbling around his head. Leaping away, Ryou left them on the floor in his haste. "I'm sorry, I should go."

On that he turned tail and ran, fleeing from the anger he felt rising in his spirit and the pain of their distrust. Harry hopped up to grab Ron's arm before the other boy could pursue the Slytherin.

"_Ron_," Hermione snapped, lifting Crookshanks into her arms and stalking over to him. "What did you do that for? He didn't do anything!"

"Are you both loony?" Ron shook his arm free from Harry's hand, glaring balefully from one to the other. "He's Malfoy's friend. Of _course_ he did something!" They continued to frown at him, though Harry's was more of a world-weary frown than anything else. Ron took heart from this.

"He didn't have to bring her back. And he was being gentle with her." Hermione's arguments persisted, but her voice wavered at the end in uncertainty.

As for Ryou, he went straight to his dorm.

"Where were you," Draco demanded, the barest thread of concern intermixed with his haughty hostility. Biting back a surprised apology, Ryou felt a flood of warm amusement at his friend's sense of self-importance. It was hard for him to remember that leaving his side for the slightest reason without offering an explanation was digested by the blond like an insult.

Life with Draco was lived on pins and needles if you desired staying in his good graces. "I found Granger-chan's cat hurt last night and returned her this morning." It was probably a bad idea to tell him this, since Draco didn't like Gryffindors or want _him_ to like them, but he had to tell enough lies as things were. It was… nice… to tell the truth, this once.

"_What_?" Draco stared at him in distaste before all but exploding at him, horrified confusion giving way to disbelieving condescension. "Are you completely insane, Ryou? They. Are. _Gryffindors._ This means they are the _enemy_. If you were so worried about the stupid cat, why didn't you just give it to that bitch of a head of house they have? _She_ would have given it to the mudblood." There was a moment's pause that Draco used to regroup, then he started in again with a new tirade.

"You're lucky they didn't curse you. Tell me you had sense enough to wait for her to be without the wonder squad?" A snort. "No. You didn't. And you went on your own. You do _not_ just walk up to them, Ryou. No, you don't even associate with them. Not unless I'm there. You hear me?"

Draco had once again gotten into one of his catty moods. Unable to stop the other from ranting or being upset, Ryou pled a headache and slipped out to get some air.

* * *

Night had taken over the sky before Ryou felt up to returning to his dorm. It was long past the deadline, meaning that he would probably be in trouble for remaining outdoors for so long, but he barely cared. For someone who rarely slept at night, a bedtime was something new and uncomfortable.

Ryou almost made it to the entrance to the rooms when a voice hissed for him to stop. How he was recognized he wasn't sure. Hands shaking, Ryou turned slowly. Not, he recognized, and started to feel some relief before his classmates' words came back to him, warning him to be careful.

"Hello," he greeted softly, backing a step closer towards the entryway. "We really shouldn't be out here."

The tall boy stalked closer, his rough hand closing over Ryou's wrist with a force that made him jump. "Stay," the larger boy ordered. "Nobody will be missing us. I was waiting for you after I heard you hadn't come back yet."

There was a gleam in those eyes that made Ryou nervous. It was a look he had known before, and one that had led to many deaths. He tugged experimentally, but found the grip on his arm inescapable. "Really," Ryou murmured, a note of fear entering his voice, "we should go in. You don't want this."

Nott scowled at Ryou and jerked him closer, tangling his hand in the delicate while hair. "Am I not good enough for you, then?" He snarled, jerking the smaller boy's face closer and making him wince. "Do I not look good enough, like those prissy friends of yours?"

"N-no!" Grimacing in pain, Ryou clutched the large Quidditch captain's wrist, straining vainly to wrest it from his hair. "It's nothing to do with you at all!"

"Really, I wouldn't have thought," Nott growled, clearly not believing him. "Well, my little veela, those two aren't here now to keep me away. When I'm through, you'll know who you belong to."

"_Me._"

Nott whirled to face this unexpected arrival. Ryou's muscles weakened in relief, hands relaxing despite the remaining vice-like grip of Nott's fist. The unshed tears in his eyes threatening to fall he kept at bay, waiting for the freedom he knew he'd be given. Misty shadows were dusting the air around them, darkening the already dim corridor in a haunting threat his guilty mind took comfort from.

"Who're you?" Nott demanded coarsely, glaring at the spirit.

"My name would mean nothing to you, mortal. Release my pet now or the meagre existence I have planned for your future would be considered a blessing to what I shall do."

In the growing mist, Yami no Bakura stood tall and formidable, phantom hair wild in the false light glowing from his chest. The scar running over cheek and through eye caught fragments of that light, creating the deception that this scar glistened with fresh blood. The glittering of guaranteed suffering in his spirit's eyes would bring the strongest spirit to quail, and Nott stepped back from the vision as if burned, dragging Ryou with him.

"I never saw you before. This has nothing to do with you! Go before I tell Professor Snape," Nott ordered tremulously, ignorant to how much pain his movements caused his captive. The spirit pursued them, a vicious smirk twisting his pale lips into a sneer.

"I warned you, mortal," came the darkness' growl. "Now you die."

Ryou clenched his eyes shut as a searing light burnt the air, fading as a growling overlapped the fearful whimpers escaping Nott. "A trick! It-it's not real!" The trembling in his tone doubled, his fist still locked in Ryou's hair. A scraping sound was crossing the floor towards them, the growls continuing.

"Is it?"

Ryou refused to open his eyes. Nott's hand, trembling violently as the boy sought to tear it from Ryou's hair, convinced Ryou that he didn't want to see.

Screaming. Heat and chill. A new doll.

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"You're just dolls, now." He had a sad little smile, this tiny angel in the black robes.

"What do you mean?" The student standing over him was staring at him oddly, seeming to think he was unsettled. The girl did not know the half of it.

"Your souls are here, but all that holds them are wooden bodies. The Darkness has claimed you now, and will keep you."

* * *

Ryou Bakura was in a catatonic state. The clamour of students in the hall had drawn the attention of Severus, who had stepped out into a scene of pandemonium with the small boy curled on the ground at its center. The man had sent the prefect for Albus, he himself being unable to stir the child from his state, but that had been met with little success. He almost wished that he hadn't. Albus didn't want Ryou having any other scares and asked Severus to carry him to Eugene's rooms so that he could be with his father. The headmaster's reasoning was that the boy's father would be able to dispel any nervousness the child might have. Severus would have scoffed, were it not so likely to offend the old man.

Instead, he went as asked. Severus wasn't impressed with the chambers Eugene Bakura kept and made many snide comments as he laid Ryou down on the man's bed. A worn Eugene only thanked him and sat down in a chair next to his son's side. The man's face was pale beneath his tan, and his eyes were fixed on the ashen face of his son.

A disapproving Severus left them. Standing at his child's side, Eugene wavered between sitting in a chair beside him and going back to the work he had left on his desk. Minutes later there was a knock at the door, and Eugene hesitantly left his spot still standing at son's side. The young boy on the other side, Malfoy Eugene's mind supplied, looked embarrassed as he thrust a wooden body his way. "Here. He'll want this to sleep with." There was a flush on those pale cheeks. With that, the boy turned tail and left.

During the time, Ryou only half-awoke a few times only to pull the doll set in bed next to him closer and fade back into the oblivion of sleep. His darkness stood over him all the while, emotionless as the desert from which he had come.

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- End Chapter-

A/n: Lookit! A new chapter! Ee, sorry I took so long! My beta was amazing, had this chapter fixed up for me ages ago, but I'm only now getting this ready to post. Sorry that I gave you all such a delay! Any mistakes still here are my own, and please let me know if you find any! 3


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